“No one’s dying today. Well, nothing except for my faith in Luther. He said I had a week, and now he’s having me followed. Talk about a lack of trust.”

“The fact you’d trust a guy like that in the first place makes me question your judgment skills,” Lars says, checking the barrel of his own gun.

Meanwhile, St. Clare is distinctly gunless and looking less and less confident by the second.

“Hey.” I pull his attention to me. “We’ve got this.” Those wary blue eyes study me for a second.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

I shrug. “Not a clue.”

“Maybe we should make a plan first?”

“We could, but the longer we spend here, the more time we’re giving whoever it is to set up.”

“What’s your plan, then?” Lars asks.

“To leave.”

“And?”

“And that’s the plan.”

I turn and head for the door, hoping they follow me but not wanting to fuck around and wait if they’re not. My phone is on the fritz again, so I bang it with my palm a few times until the screen comes alive, and then I flip it open. But who to call?

Arlie is the smartest person I know, but she’s also been expressly forbidden from helping me, so there’s a slim chance she might not pick up. I have no idea what Everett does, but he looks pretty badass, so I’d imagine he’d be able to help, but then he’s also been told not to help, and I get the impression he does what he’s told a whole lot more than Arlie does.

Which leaves Tommy. Who I think is a thief or a pickpocket or some kind of person who swindles others out of all their money. I’m not sure how the fuck he could help in this kind of situation, but beggars can’t be choosers. Maybe he’ll be like my Robin Hood. Stealing knowledge from people to help the needy.

And I’m very, very needy.

Tommy answers on the first ring, and I could kiss him, I swear. “We never spoke,” comes down the line instead of a hello.

“Ah … okay?”

“I’m serious,” he says. “What do you want?”

“A way out.”

His forcefully patient voice comes out. “What do you mean?”

“I’m currently in the penthouse of a building, and now there’s a car parked suspiciously out the front in a no-parking zone and blocking the road, and I thiiink I might have been followed here, and the owner of that car is waiting to kill us.”

“Huh. Yeah, you’re fucked.”

Well, thanks for the confidence. I huff. “Do you have a plan B for me?”

“Not my area of expertise.”

“Is there anyone with you who might be able to help me?”

There’s a long silence. “No?”

“Tommy!”