THE ESCORT

EIGHT | A PSYCHOPATH

Halfway down the marina, Elodie skidded to a stop.

They'd been no house for miles when they drove here, she'd noticed. The road was a long winding one, and thick, tall grasses and trees framed it on both sides. Which meant she'd be a sitting duck if she ran by the roadside.

Her eyes swung up to the nearest yatch to her left, and she was glad when she saw no light on.

It took a bit of effort, and constant glances over her shoulders, but she did manage to get on the rocking yatch, then moved toward the cabin door. Unfortunately for her, it was locked.

Going back down wasn't an option now, because she could hear feet pounding on the wooden plank and rapid Italian instructions.

Elodie dropped into a crouch by the door, heart pounding as the voices drew closer to the yatch she was hiding on.

"Where do you think she ran off to?" Bones asked, sounding so pissed that there was no denying the malice behind his words. If he caught her first, then she was done for.

"She couldn't have gone far," replied another man. "Capo wants her to be found quickly. He's so pissed."

"Probably because she's wasting his time," said Eyes. "I still can't believe that she kicked me in the shin."

Bones chuckled. "You snooze, you loose. Although, the Capo isn't pleased that you shot at her. He'd get back at you for that."

"I think..."

Their voices faded away as they moved further away from her.

Elodie let out a relieved sigh as she sank onto her buttocks, resting her back against the door.

It'll be hard for them to find her here, because they'd think she'd gone off into the bushes or something.

She'd give them a few minutes, then get off the boat. Staying around wasn't wise, seeing as they may decide to start checking the yatchs if they don't find her soon.

If only she could find...

Elodie sat up straighter and hit the power button of the phone she'd forgotten that she was holding. Disgust filled her eyes when the video she'd taken was displayed on the screen. She exited the gallery and went into the contacts list, scrolling until she saw the helpline number Boss had told every angel to call when in trouble.

She dialed the number and held the phone up to her ear, biting her bottom lip.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She immediately got onto her knees, body locked up in fright as she looked up to see that Angelo was leaning against the railing few feet away from where she was. He was holding a pistol, and it was aimed at her head.

He was still in his outfit from earlier when he was killing that sick bastard, and few flecks of blood still stained his face.

Bones had said Angelo was pissed, but the man standing in front of her looked anything but. His expression was bored, as though this was some tedious task for him.

"Hang up," he told her.

At the same time, her call was answered and Sonia—the operator of the helpline—asked, "Angel E, what may I do for you tonight?"

"Oh, ummm, sorry, Sonia. I must have dialed you without knowing."

"Are you okay? Do you need any help? If you can't speak just mention a random pizza order and I'll track your location right now."

Angelo raised a brow as his right thumb pressed down on the hammer of his gun.

His threat was clear. If she did so much as to say anything suspicious, he'd kill her right there and then. And seeing as he was a man Boss respected and liked a lot, she'd definitely believe whatever cock-and-bull story he told her.