Page 33 of Merciful Lies

“I think I do smell smoke,” she says, her eyes wide.

I wait a moment, trying to make sure it’s actually fire and not just me overreacting to some asshole burning his toast.

But no. I’m not.

I’ve smelled fire before, and something is definitely on fire. My hackles were already raised. Have been ever since we left the bakery.

I can’t shake the feeling. Now I know why.

Something is fishy about this whole thing. And it all comes back to her dead brother.

Sammy. That fucker.

You shouldn’t think ill of the dead, but I don’t pander to superstitious bullshit like that.

I’m a bad guy, but Sammy was a fucking leech. My instincts are all fired up. I know he’s involved somehow with the trouble Anna has been having with the bakers.

But I can’t think about it now, cause if I am right and this building is on fire, we need to leave. Like now.

“Let’s go,” I say, taking her hand in my free one.

I pull open the door to her apartment, and the air in the hallway is thick with smoke. I can’t see two feet in front of me, and the stifling heat is trying to choke me.

The thing about fire is the smoke is black. Not white. Damn near impossible to see through, and even worse to breathe in. I’m not exposing Anna to that.

“Fuck,” I growl, pushing us back inside. “Fire escape?”

“Uh, yeah, but it’s old.”

She points to the window on the far wall of her small eat in kitchen and I pull her towards it.

“Come on,” I tell her.

I lift the glass and screen out of the way. Looking out the window, I toss her bag onto it, then I straddle the sill.

“Nico, I’m not sure I can do this.”

“Anna, I will keep you and the baby safe. I swear. Do you trust me?”

The look on her face, the hope I see there in her big brown eyes fills me with an overwhelming sense of pride. She places her hand in mine, and I get her out of the window, onto the rickety fire escape.

“Fire department is on their way, Boss,” Tommy, my driver, shouts, and I nod.

“Yo, Tommy, catch.”

I toss the duffle at him, ignoring Anna’s sharp gasp as I move us both to the ladder. Shit. I don’t like this.

The old wrought-iron ladder is rusted, and all the paint has chipped away.

I’m not sure it can hold my weight, never mind both of us. But it has to. I won’t accept anything else.

“Nico, I feel dizzy,” Anna whispers, and I nod.

“It’s okay, Rosebud, You just wrap your arms around my neck. Good Girl,” I murmur as she steps up to me and does just that.

“Now, hold on,” I say, and I lift her up.

Her legs wrap around my waist automatically, and I want to groan. But now isn’t the time to get turned on.

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