Tears filled her eyes. She’d gotten soft here. She’d gotten soft around their damn kids and their lives and how they took care of each other.
“I said turn the fuck around,” Taggart barked.
It was all over now. Her life at McKay-Taggart was done. She wouldn’t be Phoebe Graham again. They wouldn’t ask her how she was or invite her to lunch. They wouldn’t joke around her. She would have to leave her little apartment.
She would have to start over and all alone this time because she wouldn’t have Ten with her anymore. She’d been so compromised he couldn’t trust her again.
When she managed to turn, she saw Taggart hadn’t come alone. Her big probably-was-a-Viking-warrior-in-a-different-life boss had a SIG trained on her, but Alex McKay had a Beretta and Jake Dean was standing behind them. She couldn’t see what he was holding, but she was sure he was armed to the teeth.
Not that he needed it. Any one of the three men in front of her could kill her without a weapon.
Unfortunately for them, she was pretty good herself, and she only had one person in the world left who gave a damn about her. She had to protect Ten at any cost.
She glanced to her left. The balconies were staggered. If they were uniform, then there wasn’t a balcony under her, but there should be a balcony one floor down and to her right. If she was wrong, she would be seeing Main Street up close and personal, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad either. Maybe that would be a good way to go.
“We can do this the easy way, Phoebe,” Taggart said. “You come back to the office with us and we’ll have a chat.”
She could guess what that chat would be about and how friendly it would be. It would likely involve a bit of torture. She’d been in this position before. She still had a few scars from her brief time with China’s MSS.
Somehow she thought Taggart would be kinder. Yes, he was a badass, but she was also female and she could play on that with him.
Or she could get the hell out while the getting was good. She should remember how to do this. The whole first fifteen years of her life were about survival and then she’d had respites of time. The year with McKay-Taggart hadn’t been reality. This was reality.
She turned to her right and leapt over the balcony wall, adrenaline pumping through her system like a freight train. Immediately to her right was the fourth floor balcony suite. She threw her arms out, almost missing it.
“Goddamn it!” she heard Taggart yelling.
But she couldn’t think about him right now. She barely caught the edge of the balcony, her knees smashing into the railing. No time to think about pain. She let it go, focusing on one thing only. She pulled herself up and threw one of her throbbing legs over the railing, making it to the floor. Without a second to breathe, she was on her feet again and happy that the hotel believed in French doors. She kicked with all her might right in the middle, where the laws of physics were on her side. The door slammed open and she ran through paying absolutely no attention to the man and woman who were probably really fucking shocked to have their midday tryst interrupted by an intruder.
She ignored them, the door to the hallway her only goal. There were three men who would be following her, but she had to think about Simon and Jesse, too. They wouldn’t stay on the sidelines, and the McKay-Taggart group believed in communications. Taggart would have already told his whole team that she was on the move. She needed to go out the back or find a hidey-hole. She needed to get to the street. She could lose herself on the street, hop on the train, and disappear into the city.
Her mind moved a hundred miles an hour as she slammed out of the suite and into the hallway. She had no doubt one of them would be hard on her ass. She sprinted down the hall to her right because it made more sense to go to her left. The elevators were to her left, but she was looking for the stairs at the far end of the hotel.
She took a turn, but she could hear someone behind her. There was no way to mask the sound of feet beating against the floor at a dead run.
She had to be faster. She turned on the heat, forgetting about the ache, neglecting the pain. It was easy to forget the physical, but the sight of Jesse putting his arms wide and yelling for her to take him out wouldn’t go away. She ran without thought to the way her lungs burned.
She could hear the man behind her getting closer. The door to the stairs was ahead. She saw it. She could make it. Distraction. It was what she needed. She hit the door and then stopped, swiveling on her bare feet. She held the door slightly open, waiting for the inevitable.