"Now what?" Marty turned her head and arched a brow tauntingly.
"You go low, I'll go high." Adrenaline coursed through his body as she flashed a bright, honest-as-hell smile before giving a quick nod of her head.
Behind them, apartment doors were opening, voices were demanding explanations, and all Khalid could do was feel a strange, unfamiliar sense of completeness.
He'd never had a lover who could match this side of him. That side that hungered for danger.
"High, low," she mouthed back. "One. Two . . ."
On three, they moved.
Marty threw herself to the floor, rolled, and came up across the hall with her weapon aimed at the now empty window and unoccupied fire escape.
Almost simultaneously they were up and running at the same time to the window. Marty went low, he went high. They both stared at the empty fire escape for a long moment.
"Bastard's gone," Shayne called out from the level below them. "No car, no nothing, just gone."
Gone. That meant that whoever the hell was after Marty was still out there.
"Get up here," Khalid ordered, his voice harsh as he gripped Marty's arm and began pulling her back along the hall.
Residents at the open apartment doors stared at them in curiosity and shock.
Ignoring them, Khalid continued to draw Marty back to her apartment.
"Everything's fine." Marty waved them back toward their apartments. "You can go back to your homes. Have a drink for me. Don't worry, this is your building's owner. Nothing to fret about."
"Shayne will be here in a minute." His voice was harder, demanding. "Get some clothes together or do without them, it's your choice, but hurry."
The door slammed closed behind them.
"Of course you would." Marty jerked her arm out of his grip as she bit back the need to roll her eyes at him. "Let me guess: A club member can help you out of this under the right circumstances."
She moved to her bedroom and jerked the overnight bag she kept handy from beneath the bed. It was filled with several changes of clothes and needed supplies, as well as an extra weapon and ammunition.
"Your fathers can take care of anything I need where the police are concerned," he informed her. "I'd just prefer to be on home ground."
"Fine. I'm ready." She slung the strap of the heavy backpack over her shoulder as she turned to face him. "Let's go."
His gaze flicked to the backpack, but he surprised her when he didn't make a comment. Instead, he held out his hand to her.
Marty stared at that hand for a long moment before placing hers in it. Feeling his fingers curl around hers as he drew her quickly through the apartment back to the door sent a strange feeling of warmth surging through her.
He hadn't gripped her arm and pulled her along. He'd extended his hand and invited her to go. There was a difference, and that difference sent a wave of unfamiliar emotion washing through her.
"Abdul has the car waiting." Shayne met them at the elevator as the doors slid open. "I called Joe Mathews. He's chomping at the bit to race out to your estate, but I convinced him to hold off until morning. Someone will be coming out for his car tonight."
The ride to the lobby was made quickly. As the elevator doors slid open, the manager rushed from the security station toward Khalid.
"Mr. Mustafa, security has been sent to Miss Mathews's floor and the police called."
"Cancel the call to the police and get security back in place, everything's fine," Khalid ordered, as he led the way through the lobby at a quick pace. "I'll be in contact with you soon."
"But Mr. Mustafa . . ."
Khalid pushed the door open and led Marty outside.
Marty felt the strangest sense of unreality as they passed through those doors, as though she had entered another world rather than simply left a building.