Lord of London Town - Tillie Cole Page 0,49

was saying. I felt dizzy, aches and pains accosting me from my side to my head. I tried to keep my composure, keep conscious. I had to escape. I had to get away from here. I needed to get help. I couldn’t let them take me.

But when we burst out of the exit and into an alleyway, I was dragged to the doors of a waiting van. Two of the men got in. One was behind me. I quickly looked at him; the knife he had used on Arabella was tucked into his waistband.

Just as he grabbed my arm to push me inside, I thrust my body against him. He laughed, clearly thinking I’d stumbled again. He certainly didn’t suspect me of grabbing his knife and plunging it into his stomach. He keeled over, and I ran. I ran as hard and as fast as I could down the alleyway.

I could see the main road in the distance.

My heart beat faster and faster as I heard footsteps on the cobbled stones, someone giving chase. But I had the main road in my sight; it was my target. It was my salvation. I pulled at the tape around my wrists, working it as I ran. I ripped the tape off my mouth with my hands. I fought and fought as I ran, lifting my arms and yanking them down, managing to get one hand free. I risked a quick look behind me and saw the other two men hot on my heels.

But the end of the alley was just a few feet away. As I burst onto the bright main street, a hint of relief hit me. But I didn’t let my guard down. I ran for the taxi rank near the front of the spa. People stared at me as I passed. I ignored them. I had to get to the safety of a taxi. I knew of only one person who could help me. The one person I needed to see right now more than God.

The rank was empty of people, and I dived into the back of the first cab. “Drive!” I shouted to the cabbie. His eyes widened in the rearview mirror.

“Bloody hell, love. You okay?”

“Please!” I begged, feeling the delayed shock starting to claw at my throat, anxiety trying to smother me with its heavy body. “Please, just drive.” I looked behind me and couldn’t see the men anywhere. It would be too conspicuous for them to be seen in public dressed as they were. But it didn’t mean they weren’t tracking me somehow.

“Where to, love?” the cabbie said and pulled out into the main road.

“The …” I hitched a breath. “The Sparrow Room.” I knew it was only up the road, but I needed time to catch my breath. I couldn’t have made it to the club on foot. My energy was depleted, and I didn’t feel well.

“They’re not going to let you in looking like that, sweetheart. It’s as posh as Buckingham Palace.”

“I know him,” I murmured and sat back on the leather seat, feeling the wounds that had been inflicted on me begin to throb and sting. My entire body seemed to pulse, and I thought I could smell blood. I pushed the images of Freya and Arabella from my head, of Dad and Hugo being shot on the seats to which they were tied. I wasn’t safe yet. I just had to get to Arthur, and then I’d be safe. He would help me. Even if he didn’t want me anymore, he would keep me safe.

I pulled my hair from its low bun and tried my best to hide my face. The taxi stopped. The entrance to the Sparrow Club was to my left. It was a huge building with heavy-set bouncers guarding the door. I just had to get inside.

“I can’t pay you,” I whispered to the cabbie when I caught him staring at me.

“It’s on the house, darling,” he said and unlocked the doors for me. The unexpected kindness almost made me weep, but I kept it together. I just had to keep it together for a little bit longer. “They’re not going to let you in,” the cabbie said again.

I watched a bouncer remove the rope to let people inside and knew that’s how I’d get in. I could make a run for it when the ropes were pulled back. Then I just had to find Arthur’s office. I prayed he was there.

The bouncer closed the rope again, and

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