Page 8 of Operation: Free Fall

I ignore her lack of faith in me and we slam through the large steel door that leads onto the black tarred rooftop. We’re five floors up. Not too high, but high enough where you could still fall and break your neck. Scanning the area, I spot what I’m looking for and run over to the round tube that’s been suspended here for a while.

The last time I spent the day hanging out at Rock Bottom, I noticed this building was under construction and, luckily, it still isn’t finished. The trash tube provides an easy way for the workers to throw debris into the dumpster below without accidentally hitting pedestrians. And now it’s our unconventional, slightly inconvenient, escape route. It’ll be a bumpy ride down, but much safer than taking a leap off the edge of the building. Or waiting for the dudes with guns to catch up.

“Get in,” I urge her.

“This is your plan?” She looks down the chute and her face pales. “Are you insane?”

“It’ll hold you. Now go!” When she hesitates, I throw my hands up. “Or stay up here and get shot.”

Not liking that option, Ivy swings a leg up and situates herself into the chute’s opening at the same moment the stairwell door flies open and the two bad guys appear.Shit.

“Move it!” I yell and give her a shove. The pop of bullets fills the air and I dive face-first into the chute and hope to God I don’t collide into Ivy and hurt her.

Luckily, the garbage chute is at a slight angle—and I mean very slight—so it’s not a straight drop to the dumpster. But it’s pretty damn close. My teeth rattle in my head as I slide down five, skull-shaking floors on my stomach.

Up ahead, Ivy drops from the bottom of the tube and I hear her cry when she lands flat on her back, legs sprawled open, on a pile of debris. I hate hearing her yelp, but better to have a few scrapes and bruises than a bullet lodged in her.

I use my hands and legs to try to slow myself down, but it’s not working very well and I brace myself for the literal face full of crap I’m about to dive into. I’m just hoping to avoid concrete. Seconds later, I fly out of the end of the chute and instead of face-planting into a chunk of concrete, I land in a soft pile of garbage. And right between Ivy’s long legs.

It takes me a moment to register I’m eye-level with her crotch. Normally, I’d laugh and say something to make her blush, but we can’t waste a moment. Dumb and Dumber are still after us. Reluctantly pulling back, I stand up on the uneven slabs of debris and reach down, pulling Ivy up to her feet.

“C’mon, sweetness.” I climb out of the dumpster then turn and help her down. She stumbles a little and my heart speeds up. “Are you okay?”

She nods, shoving that mass of blonde hair back. “Just a little banged up.”

We start jogging up the quiet street, now cloaked in shadows. “Can you run? Or am I going to have to carry you?” I tease.

Her response is a very unlady-like snort as she takes off, leaving me in the dust. I’m not sure if I’m more upset with not getting the chance to throw her over my shoulder or impressed with her resilience and attitude. With a smirk, I run after her, easily catching up.

“That way,” I say with a nod and we slip down a dark alley. I keep glancing over my shoulder, expecting to see Dumb and Dumber following us, but so far, so good. Still though, I want to make sure we gave them the slip and we’re putting enough distance between them and us.

I also can’t help glancing down every time she runs in front of me. Because, yeah, it’s hard not to notice all those perfectly-placed curves.

We keep moving at a steady pace, cutting over on side streets, and I’m impressed by how Ivy is holding her own. In fact, she’s kicking ass and taking names. She could’ve easily broken down and lost her shit, but she didn’t. Instead, she dug deep and is being braver than I ever would’ve anticipated. My chest expands a little and I know, as silly as it may sound, it’s because I’m proud of her.

We cross over another street and head up that block. When I finally see a taxi, I flag it down and we hop into the back seat.

“La Guardia,” I tell the driver.

“You’re here on a job,” she says and I nod. “I can’t believe it. When I ran into Rock Bottom, I didn’t actually expect you to be there.”

“I’m glad I was.”

“Me too,” she murmurs and lets out a long, low breath.

“Do you have any idea why those assholes were after you?”

“Because I witnessed a murder,” she whispers, slightly lifting the camera in her lap. “And I caught it on here.”

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“I’m in a lot of trouble, huh?” She sucks in a sharp breath then looks over at me, fear glittering in her eyes. “I dropped my tote bag when we slammed into that guy in the bar.”

“What was in it?” I ask slowly, dreading her answer.

“Some extra memory cards, a small notebook with client information, my business cards and my wallet,” she adds with a grimace. “Oh, God, Finn. They have my name and address.”

I swear under my breath.Not good.She can’t go home. And won’t be able to until they aren’t around to look for her anymore. Damn am I glad she ran into that bar when she did.

---