Page 67 of Risky Obsession

Why does she know how to fight like that?

We reached the back door of the inn and paused to peer up the dark alley. It was deserted.

“He took my bag.” Her breath clouded in the frigid air.

“I know, but I think it was the maps he was after. Lucky I left them in my jacket.”

We entered into the bar and the elderly innkeeper strode toward us, tugging on a thick robe. “Was ist los? Geht es dir gut?”

I had no idea what he said, but his expression showed his concern. He scowled at the disarray of his bar.

“We had an intruder in our room,” I said, even though I knew he wouldn’t understand me. I clutched Tory’s hand as we climbed the stairs together.

Six people mingled in the hallway, all in their pajamas, and all of them looked terrified. I followed Tory as she wove between them.

Inside our room, the chair and table were both in pieces. The map frame was in splinters and glass covered the floor.

“Get dressed,” I said as I yanked my jeans over my shorts. “What was in your bag?”

She pulled on her running shoes. “My passport and Aria’s credit card, nothing else important.”

“Shit. Now he knows who you are.”

“I get the feeling he already did.”

“Yeah.” I tugged on my jacket and felt inside for the envelope.

“Still there?” Tory asked as she tugged on her jacket.

“Yeah, thank God.”

As I shoved my gear back into my duffle bag, sirens wailed somewhere in the distance. “Shit. Let’s move.”

The innkeeper stepped into our doorway. “Oh, mein Gott!”

“Sorry,” Tory said, zipping up a jacket.

“You ready?” I asked her.

“Shit, my phone’s shattered.” She showed me the cracked screen. “Damn it.” She shoved the broken phone into her jacket pocket.

I snatched the car keys from the floor and grabbed my bag. “Let’s go.”

“Excuse me.” Tory edged past the innkeeper with a determination that impressed me.

“Was machst du denn da? Du kannst nicht gehen. Die Polizei ist unterwegs.” His tone grew increasingly angry with each word, but the only word I recognized waspolice.

“Sorry,” I said as I shoved past him into the hallway.

“Kommen Sie zurück. Ich sage es der Polizei. Halt!” he yelled at our backs as we dodged past the people still in the hall and raced down the steps.

Tory burst through the front door ahead of me, and the wailing sirens filled the air as we sprinted across the parking lot. Gravel crunched beneath our shoes and adrenaline coursed through my veins. “Maybe we should wait for the cops,” I said.

“No.” She blurted.

I frowned. “Why not?”

“That asshole targeted our room, so they’ll ask a ton of questions aboutwhat he was looking for. And if they search our things, they’ll find the map.”