Page 15 of Saving Jennifer
“Impossible,” she breathed. “He’s supposed to be in custody.”
“That’s not Rashid,” Noah said grimly. “That’s his cousin, Karim. Same height, same build. He was in the files Carpenter sent over.”
“He’s looking for me.” Fear closed her throat, and she could barely breathe, unable to look away from the man who was part of the family who’d turned their back on her for most of her life—until they’d needed her. Now that she’d outlived her usefulness to them, they were ready to toss her aside like a used tissue.
“Yes,” Noah agreed, already maneuvering them away, using the crowd as a shield, “but he hasn’t seen us yet. Keep your head down.”
They ducked into another side street, Noah moving with purpose now, no longer wandering to throw off pursuit, but heading directly away from the threat.
“How many of them do you think there are?” Jennifer asked, struggling to keep up with his longer strides.
“Don’t know,” Noah replied tersely. “But we have to assume they’re coordinating, probably with hired locals, trying to find you.”
They turned another corner, and Jennifer nearly collided with Noah’s back when he stopped abruptly. Ahead of them, another man in a dark suit walked toward them, his hand reaching inside his jacket.
“Back,” Noah hissed, but it was too late. The man had spotted them.
What happened next was a blur. Noah shoved Jennifer behind him, reaching for the weapon holstered at the small of his back. The man in the suit pulled out his own gun, but Noah was faster. Two shots rang out, shockingly loud in the narrow street.
The man staggered, then crumpled to the ground. Noah grabbed Jennifer’s hand and pulled her into a run. “Somebody’s bound to have heard that,” he said, his voice tight. “Police will be coming.”
They sprinted down the street, Jennifer’s lungs burning, terror giving her speed she didn’t know she possessed. Behind them, she could hear shouts, then more gunfire. A bullet pinged off the wall beside them, showering them with fragments of brick.
“In here,” Noah said, yanking open a door. They tumbled inside, into what appeared to be a storage room filled with boxes and furniture covered with plastic tarps and sheets. He slammed the door shut behind them, then dragged a heavy shelf in front of it.
“Where are we?” Jennifer bent over, hands on her knees, gasping as she tried to catch her breath.
“Back entrance to an antique shop,” Noah said, already moving through the cluttered space. “One of my cousins has an ex-girlfriend who owns the place. There should be another exit…”
He trailed off, peering through the gloom. The only light came from a small window high up on one wall, casting everything in a dim, bluish glow.
Jennifer straightened, trying to control her breathing. “That man…is he…?”
“Yes,” Noah said simply. There was no apology in his voice, no regret, just a calm acceptance of what he’d had to do.
Jennifer wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the sweltering heat permeating the room. “I never wanted anyone to die because of me.”
Noah turned to look at her, his expression softening for the first time that night. “This isn’t on you, Jennifer. The Amirs made their choice when they decided to break the law. When they decided that a child was property to be stolen. When they decided that murder was an acceptable way to solve their problems.”
He stepped closer, and despite everything, Jennifer felt that same pull, that same awareness of him as a man, not just a protector.
“You’re doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice low and intense. “Standing up to people like that takes courage. Real courage.”
“I don’t feel very courageous right now,” Jennifer admitted, hating the tremor in her voice.
Noah’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man capable of such violence. “That’s the thing about courage,” he whispered softly. “It’s about being afraid and doing the right thing anyway.”
For a moment they stood there, suspended in time, the danger outside temporarily forgotten. Then Noah’s phone buzzed, breaking the spell. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled it free, relief washing over his features when he looked at the screen. “Gator. He’s two blocks away with backup. Carpenter Security has been alerted to our position as well.” He tapped the phone. “We made sure there was a tracker on this phone, wanted to make sure the team could find us anywhere. Just in case.”
Jennifer nodded, both relieved and strangely disappointed at the interruption. “So, we’re safe?”
“Not yet,” Noah cautioned, moving toward what appeared to be another door at the far end of the room. “But soon. Come on.”
They made their way through the cluttered space, stepping around antique furniture and stacks of boxes. Noah reached the door and tried the handle. It turned easily under his hand.
“Gator always said the owner of this place never locks the interior doors,” he murmured, opening it a crack and peering through. “Looks clear.” She followed him into a narrow hallway, dimly lit by emergency exit signs. At the far end, a door led out to what appeared to be an alley. “That’s our exit,” Noah said, leading the way. “Gator will meet us there.”
They had just reached the door when Jennifer’s phone rang—the one from the backpack Noah had given her. She fumbled for it, her hands shaking, and answered without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”