Page 15 of Stone

“Please don’t let me catch an infectious disease,” she muttered.

She spotted the hulk of a dumpster ahead, and ducked behind it.

With a shaking hand, she lifted her cellphone and pressed the button for Nick. The phone rang and rang, and tears welled in her eyes. Why wasn’t he answering?

“Come on,” she urged.

The call went to his messages.

“No.” She blew out a breath. Then she dialed Sentinel Security.

“Hello, Sentinel Security.” It was Hex’s cheery voice.

“God, Hex, it’s Nola.”

Hex’s voice changed. “Nola, what’s wrong?”

“I tried to call Nick, but he wasn’t answering.” Her words came out in a rush. “I went to this penthouse I’m selling. There were men there. I saw one of them shoot another man in the head.” Her voice rose and she gulped. “They were Russian. Now they’re chasing me.”

Hex’s curse was low and impressive. “Okay, slow down. I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Nola.” It was Killian’s calm, deep voice. “Are you safe?”

“I don’t know. I think so. I’m hiding in an alley outside the High Line Tower.” She swallowed. “They’re searching for me.”

“Stay where you are. We’ll send someone for you.” She heard him lower his voice and talk to Hex for a second. “Wolf and Stone are closest to you. I just need you to hold on tight until they get there.”

“Okay,” she said shakily.

“Nola, you said the men were Russian?”

“Yes. The man they shot was called Alexei. The one who shot him was called Zolotov.” There was silence. Her hand squeezed the phone. “That’s not good, is it?”

“It’s not good,” Killian agreed.

“God, they’re mafia, aren’t they?”

“Just stay hidden. The guys are coming for you.”

“Thanks, Killian.”

“We’ve got you, Nola.”

She ended the call and suddenly felt so alone. She wrapped an arm around her middle, as fear tied itself like a bow around her neck. She wiped her hand over her mouth.

She didn’t really want to see Knox, but right now she didn’t care who came for her, as long as someone did.

Staying alive was more important than her pride.

CHAPTER FOUR

Knox strode down the sidewalk, watching as a clever, young pickpocket bumped into a tourist. As the dark-haired woman reached for the man’s wallet, Knox caught her gaze.

She stopped and pulled a face. Then turned and disappeared into the crowd. No doubt to find her next victim.

Turning back to the hot dog stand, Knox handed over some cash to the smiling vendor, and took his hot dog. The stand was covered by a bright yellow umbrella.

He figured he couldn’t move to New York and not have a hot dog.

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