Chapter 3: No Rest for the Wicked
The city swallowed them whole. The rain blurred their figures as they ran, weaving through alleyways, slipping between parked cars, their breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts. The wail of sirens grew louder behind them, but Alex knew the cops wouldn't bother searching too hard. The cartel had half the force in their pocket. By morning, the bodies would be gone, and the incident would disappear like it never happened.
But that didn't mean they were safe.
Maya kept pace beside him, her movements quick and precise. She wasn't some fragile victim; she was someone who had learned to survive. That was good. It meant she wouldn't slow him down.
They reached a side street, and Alex yanked her into a doorway, pressing his back against the cold brick. His gun was already in his hand, finger resting lightly on the trigger as he listened for pursuit.
Nothing.
He turned his head, studying Maya in the dim light. She was soaked, her dark hair clinging to her face, her clothes torn and stained with blood—not her own, from the looks of it.
"You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?" she asked, voice low and controlled.
"Rescuing you," Alex replied.
"Yeah? 'Cause it looked a lot like you just dragged me out of the frying pan and into the goddamn fire."
Alex smirked. He liked her. She had bite.
"That warehouse wasn't exactly a five-star hotel," he said. "Figured you'd want out."
Maya folded her arms. "And you just happened to show up at the right time?"
He shrugged. "Call it good timing."
She stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. "You're working for someone."
"That obvious?"
"Yeah. So, who sent you?"
Alex hesitated. He could feed her some bullshit, but something told him she'd see right through it.
"Guy named Calloway," he admitted. "Wants you back in one piece. No details beyond that."
Maya's expression darkened. "Calloway…" she muttered. "Figures."
"You know him?"
"I know enough," she said, shifting on her feet. "And if he sent you, that means I've got a whole lot of problems I don't need right now."
"Yeah, well, join the club," Alex muttered.
Maya took a deep breath, then ran a hand through her wet hair. "Look, I appreciate the whole 'hero act,' but you're in way over your head. You should walk away."
Alex chuckled. "Not how this works, sweetheart."
She gave him a hard look. "Don't call me that."
"Noted," he said with a smirk.
Maya sighed again, glancing toward the street. "You got a place to go, or are we just gonna stand here waiting for another ambush?"
Alex checked his watch. It was past midnight. His apartment was out of the question—too obvious. He needed somewhere off the radar.
He knew just the place.
"Come on," he said, pushing off the wall. "I know a spot."
Maya hesitated, then followed.
Safe House
The safe house was a run-down apartment in a part of town no one looked twice at. The building was old, the walls covered in peeling paint, the hallways reeking of cigarette smoke and stale beer. Perfect.
Alex unlocked the door and stepped inside. The place was sparse—couch, table, a fridge with probably nothing but expired milk inside. He didn't stay here often, only when he needed to lay low.
Maya walked in behind him, closing the door with a soft click. She gave the room a once-over, then snorted. "Cozy."
Alex tossed his jacket over a chair. "It's got four walls and a roof. That's good enough."
Maya crossed her arms. "So, what's your plan? Keep me locked up here until Calloway picks me up?"
"You got a better idea?"
"Yeah," she said. "Not getting caught."
Alex chuckled, shaking his head. "You think I'm the enemy here?"
"I think I don't know you," she shot back.
Fair enough.
Alex sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. "Look, I'm not here to screw you over. You're my job. That's it."
Maya's eyes narrowed. "And what happens when the job's done?"
That was a damn good question.
Before Alex could answer, she pulled off her soaked jacket and tossed it over a chair. Underneath, she wore a tight tank top that clung to her body, revealing toned arms and a faint scar along her collarbone. She was built like someone who'd seen her fair share of fights, and Alex had to admit—he respected that.
She caught him looking. "Something on your mind?"
Alex smirked. "Just wondering how many guys you've knocked on their ass."
Maya arched a brow. "You wanna be next?"
He chuckled. "Not tonight."
She rolled her eyes and moved toward the bathroom. "I need a shower. Don't get any ideas."
"No promises," Alex called after her, earning a sharp glare before she disappeared behind the door.
The sound of water running filled the room. Alex exhaled and sat down on the couch, pulling his gun from his holster and checking the magazine. Five bullets left. Not great.
He had a feeling he'd need a lot more before this was over.
A Visitor in the Night
Alex had just started to relax when he heard it—soft footsteps outside the door.
His body tensed. He set his gun on the table, grabbed his knife from his boot, and moved toward the door, silent as a shadow.
A knock. Light. Deliberate.
Someone knew he was here.
Alex glanced toward the bathroom. Maya was still in the shower.
He reached for his gun.
The knock came again, followed by a voice.
"Alex Cross."
Female. Calm. Dangerous.
Alex frowned. He knew that voice.
Ellie.
He sighed, then unlocked the door and pulled it open.
Ellie stood there, wearing a leather jacket and a knowing smirk. "You really need to work on your security."
Alex leaned against the doorframe. "You really need to stop showing up uninvited."
Ellie's eyes flicked over his shoulder. "So, she's here."
Alex didn't answer.
Ellie chuckled. "You have no idea what you just stepped into, do you?"
Alex clenched his jaw. "What do you want, Ellie?"
She leaned in, her voice dropping. "A warning. You're playing a game you don't understand, and if you don't get out now, you won't get out at all."
Alex studied her, searching for a lie.
"Who else is looking for her?" he asked.
Ellie's smirk faded. "Someone worse than the cartel."
"Who?"
She shook her head. "You're not ready for that answer."
Alex exhaled sharply. "You think I scare easy?"
Ellie met his gaze, her expression dead serious. "You should."
Before Alex could push further, a voice interrupted them.
"Who the hell is she?"
Alex turned.
Maya stood in the doorway of the bathroom, dripping wet, wearing only a towel.
Ellie looked her up and down, then smiled.
"Well, well," she murmured. "Now this just got interesting."