Hideout by Jack Heath (iphone ebook reader txt) 📕

and its faded sheets. A familiar perfume hangs in the air. I pick up one of the muffin crumbs and put it in my mouth. Blueberry. No more than a day old.

Donnie checks the bathroom. ‘Clear.’

Kyle opens the closet, even though no adult could possibly fit in there. ‘Clear.’

I check the trash can under the desk. A go-cup, with what looks and smells like milkshake residue stuck to the plastic.

There’s a handbag on the nightstand. I search it. No wallet or ID, but there’s a can of pepper spray and a box of Tampax Radiant.

I tell myself I’m being paranoid—but I need to get these guys out of here just in case I’m not.

‘Damn,’ I say. ‘She must have checked out already. Let’s scram before someone sees us.’

‘No,’ Donnie says. ‘She’s paid for another two nights. We can hide in the room, grab her when she comes in.’

‘She’ll see the van outside,’ I say. ‘She’s not stupid.’

‘We can park the van in front of a different room. It’s not rocket science.’

‘If we do that, we’ll be too exposed while we carry her to it. No—we should abort.’

Kyle is giving me a suspicious look. ‘How do you know she’s not stupid? I thought you didn’t know who we were picking up.’

I don’t. Not for sure. Lots of women wear that perfume, eat blueberry muffins and drink milkshakes.

‘We have to go,’ I say.

Then Agent Reese Thistle appears in the doorway.

CHAPTER 23

The lean monarch’s mind races. What is he doing?

It’s only been a few days since I saw her last, but Thistle looks years older. There are bags under her eyes and her shoulders are hunched, as though she’s been on high-alert for so long that her muscles have started to calcify in that position. She’s not wearing make-up, and her hair is frizzy. This is the first time I’ve seen her in street clothes, her FBI pants suit replaced by a stained Hello Kitty T-shirt and a pair of mom jeans.

Despite all this, she’s beautiful, right up until she sees three intruders in her room and her face contorts with alarm and anger.

‘What the hell?’ She drops the bag of takeout she’s holding and reaches behind her back.

Donnie and Kyle lunge at her. Because they both leap forwards at the same moment, they bump shoulders and Kyle trips over Donnie’s leg. Thistle pulls out a Glock 17 and points it at them both. Donnie ignores it, still charging forwards.

Thistle looks like she’s about to squeeze the trigger, but first she glances over at me, probably checking if I’m armed. I’m not, but she gets a look at my face for the first time.

The anger on her face transforms into fear. ‘Holy—’

Donnie crashes into her while she’s distracted. She pulls the trigger. Blam! A bullet punches through the plaster behind Kyle’s head. Everyone in the room ducks. My ears are ringing and the muzzle flash leaves a discoloured spot in my field of vision.

Donnie wrestles the pistol out of Thistle’s grip and presses her against the wall. She screams. ‘Help! Somebody!’

I’m running forwards, desperate to get him off her before—

Too late. The knife is already at her throat. If I touch Donnie, I might accidentally nudge the blade into her windpipe.

‘Make another sound and you’re dead,’ Donnie snarls. ‘Clear?’

Thistle can’t move her head enough to nod. She just glares at him.

Kyle is ashen. ‘She nearly shot me.’

‘Leave her,’ I say. ‘We gotta go.’

‘Relax, Lux,’ Donnie says.

Thistle looks at me. I can see her thinking, Lux?

‘Someone will have heard the gunshot,’ I say. ‘We don’t have time to take her.’

‘Can’t leave her behind,’ Donnie says. ‘She knows what we look like. She can describe us to the cops.’

‘If she’s alive,’ Kyle adds.

My heart rate accelerates. ‘Just grab her driver’s licence, so you know where she lives. She won’t tell anyone. Will you, lady?’

I silently beg her to play along.

‘Fuck you,’ Thistle rasps.

‘I said no talking,’ Donnie says. ‘We don’t have time to mess around with licences, and we need her alive. Grab her feet, Kyle. Lux, you take her handbag.’

Kyle looks like he’s on the verge of fainting, but he helps Donnie carry Thistle out the door. I trail behind, helpless.

Still no one in the parking lot. No one who can save Thistle.

‘Give me the gun,’ I tell Donnie. ‘Otherwise she might grab it.’

I’m willing to shoot him right here. I’d kill Kyle, too, if that’s what it takes to save Thistle’s life.

‘It’s fine,’ Donnie says.

‘I can keep it pointed at her while you’re carrying her.’

A light comes on in the back office. The residence of the manager I never met or saw. Another light comes on in one of the other rooms.

Donnie and Kyle stuff Thistle into the back of the van. I climb in after them, feeling sick. Donnie gets into the driver’s seat.

Thistle takes in the duct tape, the black bags, the rope. She opens her mouth to scream again.

Kyle brandishes the knife. I hadn’t seen him take it from Donnie. I’m getting sloppy. Seeing him threaten her makes me want to rip his throat out.

‘We want you alive.’ Kyle’s teen bravado is back. ‘But we don’t need you to have a tongue. Got that?’

Thistle shuts her mouth. She’s scared, but she’s hiding it well.

‘I’ll tie her up,’ I say.

Kyle is already getting out the duct tape. ‘I can do it.’

I don’t want him to touch her again. ‘Don’t use that. We’ll need to move her soon.’

Thistle looks infuriated as I bind her wrists with a highwayman’s hitch. It takes a while because my hands are shaking, and because the last time I tied this knot I had ten fingers. It’s the same way