Kahn was right about one thing, though: I am a fugitive.
After years on the run, I had developed something like a sixth sense — a premonition that screamed at me to get out when things were getting too hot. That instinct had saved my life more than once.
That morning, I woke with it buzzing through me: a vibration in the air, a certainty that something was wrong.
Alex was still asleep. I slipped out of bed and went to the window. It was around eight; the sun was up. The area around the cabin looked peaceful. But I knew we weren’t alone.
Quietly, I opened the sliding door and crawled across the balcony floor to the railing.
A soft rustling came from the porch. From my position I could only see the balustrade and stairs, but someone was definitely at the front door. I ducked just in time — Kahn stepped into view below, leaning casually against a pillar.
I crawled back inside and shook Alex awake, clamping a hand over her mouth as her eyes flew open. I signalled for silence. Confusion and a flash of anger crossed her face, but the policewoman in her kicked in. Without a word she dressed quickly, reading the urgency in my tense movements.
I grabbed her carry-on bag — the necklace was still hidden in the side pocket.
The only escape was the balcony. Outside, Alex also realised someone was trying to force the front door. Fear drained the colour from her face; her eyes widened.
I climbed down first, using the beams. Once on the ground, Alex threw the bag to me and began her descent. Her shoes weren’t made for climbing; I stood ready to catch her if she slipped. She made it safely — just as we heard the front door give way with a splintering crack.
We ran for the trees. The vegetation was thick; it would give us cover if they chased us.
Which they did.
“There they are! They’re getting away!”
Alban’s voice. I could handle that ugly bastard, but the thought of his filthy hands on Alex made my blood run cold. I grabbed her arm and dragged her deeper into the undergrowth. She screamed in angry protest as branches tore at us, but I couldn’t risk slowing down.
“There’s a town nearby,” Alex gasped between ragged breaths after we had been running for what felt like ages.
Sure enough, the holiday park ended abruptly at someone else’s land. Collapsed chicken wire marked the boundary. Beyond it stood a small, dilapidated farmhouse — typical of the region. No one seemed home, and we both knew hiding there would be suicide; it was the first place they would search. We crossed the property and kept going.
We reached the town centre faster than if we had strolled. We were both exhausted, Alex worse off. She collapsed onto a patio chair beneath an arcade. The streets were nearly empty; cafés were closed. It looked like we had lost them — but I didn’t dare relax.
“Alex, baby, I know you’re tired, but we have to keep moving,” I said, voice hoarse from the run.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who we were running from!”
I decided honesty was the only option. She was in this mess, too.
“That day on the train – it wasn’t a coincidence,” I began.
“I had worked that out,” she said dryly.
“My client in Tolosa hired me to get him a rare necklace …”
“You mean you stole it?” Alex cut in.
“Well, the guy I took it from got it dishonestly, too! These things get stolen and resold to the highest bidder constantly. I’m just the middleman!” I defended myself.
“How I love your excuses, thief. And not just from a cop’s perspective,” she said, giving me a stern, judging look that -perversely – made lust surge through me.
“People commit far worse crimes than anything I’ve ever taken. And I’m a good man, Alex. You know that,” I whispered, stroking her hair.
“Is that why you were tied to a chair?”
“Yes. My client and I had an agreement: I get the necklace, he pays me. Instead, he sent two thugs to kill me and take it. I was lucky the police showed up when they did, or Alban would have rearranged this sexy face you love kissing so much.”
“I’m serious, Smith. Where’s the necklace now?”
I unzipped the side pocket of her carry-on, pulled out the velvet pouch, and handed it to her. Alex looked at me in surprise, loosened the cord, and drew out the Emerald Princess. The green gems caught the daylight and sparkled brilliantly. She admired it for a moment, then quickly tucked it away and tightened the drawstring.
“Why was it in my bag?”
“I put it there on the train …”
“On the train? But why? Oh – I see.”
Her face changed. The mix of anger, fear, and worry vanished, replaced by a deep, childlike sadness. She looked at me with wounded disbelief.
“So, you forced your way into my compartment just to dump your stolen goods in my bag — in case border control checked your luggage?”
“What? No! Alex, you’ve got it wrong! I would never do that!” I exclaimed.
“But you did! God, I’m so stupid!”
“Alex, I came for you! I was following you, trying to find a way to talk to you. Of course, I travelled with you when I learned you were going to Tolosa, too. The necklace wasn’t the only reason-”
“Not the only reason?! So, you had other reasons to use me?” she shouted.
“Alex, stop twisting my words! I like you – that’s the only reason! Border control was checking male’s luggage. I knew they wouldn’t bother you.”
“And last night you came because you missed me so much, not because you needed to pick up the necklace,” she hissed.
“That’s not true. I wanted to see you.”
“I don’t care, Smith. If – and when – we get out from Tolosa alive, I don’t want to see or hear from you again! Understand?”
Her eyes blazed; she looked more desirable than ever. I wanted to pull her into my arms, press her against my chest so she could feel my pounding heart.
But I never got the chance to explain.
Alban rounded the corner. They were still some distance away, but his sharp eyes locked onto us under the arcade. He broke into a sprint.
“Alex, we have to go!”
I snatched the bag and yanked her from the chair. We raced down the long main avenue, ducked into a side street, hoping to lose them. The echo of their footsteps on the cobblestones told us they were close.
We twisted through alleys until we burst out onto the quay of a fast-flowing river.
“Stop right there, Anglo-Saxon!” Alban barked behind us.
We spun around together. Alban and the black henchman from before levelled guns at us. They closed the distance and stopped a few metres away.
“You pissed off my boss, Anglo-Saxon,” Alban sneered, dark eyes glinting slyly. “Who’s the chick?” he asked, interested.
“Leave her out of this,” I yelled.
“I’ll ask her myself when I’m done with you,” Alban said, winking. “Where’s the necklace?” He racked the slide on his pistol.
“It’s in this bag,” I said, raising one hand and holding the bag out with the other.
“Smith! Don’t! He’ll shoot us!” Alex whispered from behind me.
“How do I know you won’t shoot us once I hand it over?”
“You don’t. You’ll just have to take the chance,” Alban growled.
I felt Alex tugging me backwards, trying to stop me. But I had underestimated her. The instant I tossed the bag to Alban and he caught it, she yanked my clothes hard. I lost my balance, tipped over the quay railing, and plunged into the icy, rapid current — Alex still gripping me as we fell together.
