elevator keeps descending.
There are only two of these in this building, and I know that one always returns to the first floor. This one is reserved for the penthouse, and when not in use, always returns to the penthouse level. It’s one of the perks.
I silently try to calculate how much time I’ll have before that second elevator reaches the 34th floor and comes back down. Thankfully, I’d called the hotel earlier and had them send Devon with the limo. If I’ve got any luck at all tonight, he’ll be parked at the curb.
I’ve got thirty floors to figure out what I’m going to do if he’s not.
I also have time to think about going to the police. I witnessed a double murder. I don’t know about Ricardo Leona, but I know poor Thomas didn’t deserve that. I grieve for the man whom I only just met. I’m sure he had a family who loved him. A family who will never see him again. It’s not fair, and I can’t make it right for them.
And as horrible as it is, I have to think of saving myself, because I’ve just moved to the top of the Rialto’s hit list. And I’m the only one who can save me. There’s just one way to do that—run and don’t stop until I’m as far away as I can get from Las Vegas.
I watch the numbers flash above the door. My heart pounds in my chest, and the moment those doors open I’m ready to bolt. Four, three, two, one. The doors open, and I’m off like a racehorse, charging from the gate. I dash through the lobby and out the glass doors. The sky has that early dawn light that glows on the horizon in the east.
Devon is parked at the curb, dozing in the driver’s seat, Motown blaring from the stereo. I grab the door handle, but it’s locked. I beat on the window, and he jerks awake and unlocks the doors. I jump in.
The glass divider slides down. “You okay, Miss Fox?”
“Go! Go! Go!” I scream.
He looks at me curiously, but quickly starts the vehicle and hits the gas.
“Don’t stop, Devon. Don’t stop for anything until you get to the hotel.”
“What’s happening, Miss Fox? Did someone hurt you?” His concerned eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.
I shake my head, tears finally streaming down my face. “Just drive.”
My mind is frantic as I look out the rear window. We turn the corner, and the front of the building disappears, no one emerging from the door.
I sink back into the seat, but my relief is short lived. They know where I work, and they will come find me. They’ll never let me live to testify against them. Not men like them.
I’ve got a bag packed in my closet. I always keep it there; in my life, things always go sideways, whether it’s a relationship or a job. Something always happens, and I’m out the door. I haven’t truly felt safe until the Del Sol. I live out of one of the hotel rooms. If that doesn’t scream temporary, I don’t know what does.
I quickly take stock of my situation.
I’ve got a good bit of savings in the bank, the thousand dollars in cash that Axle gave me, and that casino chip from Ricardo Leona, now a dead man.
I can cash it in and disappear. I take a breath and think it through. I’ll send a valet up to grab my bag while I cash in. I glance up at Devon.
“I need a favor.”
His eyes meet mine in the rearview. “Anything, honey.”
“Have one of the valets bring my car around to the loading dock.” I pass my key fob and room card to him. “Could you go to my room and bring my bag down? It’s packed and in the back of my closet. Room 852.”
He takes them. “You in trouble, Ashlynn?”
It’s the first time he’s ever used my first name. He’s a big man and intimidating to most people, but to me he’s always been a teddy bear.
“I saw something I shouldn’t have, Devon.”
“You need to leave town?”
I nod.
“Someone gonna come looking for you?”
“Probably.”
“They come around, who should I be lookin’ for?”
“The Rialto brothers. Ever heard of them?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll Google them. I see ‘em, I’ll run ‘em down.”
I smile, my eyes glazing over. “Thank you, Devon.”
“You gonna tell Mr. Perillo about this?”
Marty Perillo is the hotel’s head of security. “No. I just need to leave.”
“You want to go