Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Sure, my bosses were scary.
But I would venture a guess that a strange man who caught me hearing him breaking into a building he wasn’t supposed to be in was arguably worse.
“I have to get the ladder,” he added.
I shrank back away from the door as his voice came closer. There was no time to slide it closed, so I just had to pray that no one saw it slightly ajar and came to investigate.
“You should have brought one,” the female voice said again, making me freeze in my attempt to hide behind a pallet of drinks.
Because I knew that voice.
It was the one that condescended to me about everything from the shine on the floor to how hard the doors closed. All the while looking down her nose at me like I was beneath her.
Fine, I was. In rank. But not as a human being. I hated people who treated others as less than just because of their jobs.
“Right. Because that wouldn’t have looked suspicious,” the man said, making a beeline to the closet where the ladder was kept.
That was… suspicious, right?
How did he know right where to look? I hadn’t heard Irina tell him. But maybe she just gestured.
“A small one,” Irina insisted.
“Yeah. Because they make ones small enough to fit in your pocket.”
“Shut up,” Irina snapped, the tip of her heel tapping the ground. I could just picture her standing there in one of her skintight dresses, her arms crossed, her long red nails tapping on her arm in her impatience.
“You’re the one who said it,” the man said as the ladder knocked into something in the closet. “Who the fuck put this in here like this?”
“Your replacement,” Irina said, making my brows shoot up. “Why did you put it up in the vent anyway?”
“Because those fucking idiots came back early, and I had it in my backpack. What if they got suspicious? I had to hide it.”
“Yes. Hide it. Under a cabinet. In a closet. In the damn walk-in,” Irina said. “Not in a vent.”
“You know they sweep the place. It wasn’t worth the risk.”
Oh, God.
Okay.
Well, that explained one thing.
Why the hell there was cash in a vent.
“Yeah, well, some heads-up would have been good. It was pure luck that idiot cleaner girl didn’t see it.”
It was not the time to get my hackles up, but that didn’t stop my eyes from narrowing as I stared at the door.
Well, I did see it, Irina.
“She wouldn’t have found it if you had gotten me back in here sooner.”
Their voices started to get too far away to make out their individual words any longer.
Out to the vent, obviously.
Out to the vent… just a few feet away from my phone.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
What if Irina found it and came looking for me? I had to go.
I had to go right then.
I sucked in a breath, made my way to the door, and pushed it open. Thank God for big, heavy doors that moved damn near silently.
Outside of the walk-in, I could hear Irina keeping up a critical diatribe in the pool room.
I ran across the back room, grabbed the back door, and yanked it open safely, knowing I’d just oiled it two days before, so it wouldn’t squeak.
My stomach flipped as I flew out into the back alley. I wanted to slam the door so I could turn and run, but I forced myself to slowly pull it closed so it didn’t click.
It felt like it took ten minutes but was likely only five seconds.
The floodlights flashed on, illuminating the whole alley, putting a spotlight on me.
I had to go.
My footsteps skittered too loud against the cracked pavement, betraying me no matter how I tried to soften them.
Every scrape of gravel, each drip of water from a rusted gutter seemed amplified, suspicious—like someone was following.
My chest felt constricted, like everything I’d overheard was lodged there, threatening to choke me.
I wished I’d worked faster, had gotten out of there sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t have overheard something else I had no business knowing.
Now every shadow stretched too long, every corner seemed capable of hiding someone who was waiting to pounce.
I quickened my pace through the back alley of the pub, finding it empty for once, and I wasn’t sure if that was a relief or even more ominous.
My pulse whooshed in my ears as I slid down another, narrower alley in the building beside the pub.
It felt like it was trying to squeeze me out, brick walls pressing close, little juts of mortar scratching across my arms as I rushed through.
When I emerged, I was on the main street once again.
I chanced one look back toward the pool hall, but saw nothing. They hadn’t turned on the light. No one wanted to advertise that they were stealing.
There was a shuffling sound behind me, making my heart shoot up into my throat.