Free Hating Beauty (The Vegas Titans Series Book 6) by Celia Loren

jumping through the
window!”
    Knox glares at me. “We can’t just
walk out the fucking front door! Someone heard those shots and the police will
show up any minute, that or Ox and Rex’s backup. Which would you prefer?”
    I hesitate. Knox’s face shows the
first ripple of anger.
    “Let’s go Katja!”
    “No! We’re on the second floor!
It’s too big a drop.”
    There’s a groan behind me. I glance
back and see Rex, slipping in his own blood, struggling to his knees. He’s
reaching for his gun.
    “Come on!” Knox yells. “Now!”
    He doesn’t have to tell me again.
Nervous, I clasp his outstretched hand. The chains of our handcuffs rattle and
pinch, but I squeeze onto him even tighter. He pulls me into his body, wraps
his arms around me, and turns his back to the window. Gulping, I try not to
think about the hard concrete down below us. I can feel Knox’s breath in my
hair, his sweat against my skin.
    “You’re gonna have to jump with me,
girl. Ready?”
    I nod, disbelieving myself. “
Mamao
chveno,”
I whisper again,
“Romeli khar tsata shina,
tsminda–”
    “One,” says Knox, “Two…”
    There is no three.
    Knox’s arm tightens around my
belly, snatching me off my feet. I gasp as I feel him pull me backward through
the window, the glass shattering around us like glitter, ringing and tinkling like
bells, and we are falling…
    …falling…
    …down.

 
     
    Chapter Ten
    Katja/Jana/Mystery Girl
     
     
    Impact on the street is shockingly
hard, but Knox takes the brunt of it. I land on top of him, his body and arms shielding
me from the concrete.
    “Gah!”
    I wail as the air is forcefully
knocked out of my lungs, making my sides and throat burn. My senses are
scrambling to keep up with all that is happening, but it’s too surreal. I feel
Knox pull me in tighter as he throws our bodies sideways.
    Now we’re rolling, rolling along
the ground, the hard scratchy surface of the sidewalk alternating against my
skin with the hard, warm yield of Knox’s abs. We don’t stop the crazy careening
roll until we slam into something cold and hard.
    “Jesus,” Knox groans.
    It’s a fire hydrant. We’ve jumped
out a second story window and rolled into a fire hydrant.
    Of course.
    Why not.
    Typical day.
    “Oh god. Are we dead?” I rasp. “I
wish we were dead.”
    And then we lay there, agonizingly
still, as the numbing shock gives way to sensation. Pain fires through
everywhere. Knox groans, takes in a shuddering breath.
    “I’m getting too old for this
shit,” he moans.
    “Was there a time where you enjoyed
this kind of thing?” I groan, “You’re sick.”
    I force myself up. My skin is
peppered with cuts from the broken glass, my bare feet are scuffed, and an
ankle seems to be sprained. But somehow, other than that, I am all right. It’s
a miracle.
    Knox isn’t far behind me. He sits
up and I slide awkwardly off his chest, bumping onto the ground, dazed. He
grimaces and sucks in his breath as he forces himself to stand, blinking at the
street. A few people are staring at us while others continue their blind New
Yorker walks, painstakingly minding their own business.
    “Let’s go,” he grunts.
    I stare at him. “What are you,
Rambo?”
    “We can’t stay here.”
    “No? But I’m so comfortable.”
    He only grimaces at my sarcasm and
pulls his handcuffed arm until mine rises, dragging me a step or two behind him
like a limp doll. My ankle pops when I try to put weight on it. Knox looks at
it angrily, but doesn’t stop walking.
    “We gotta move,” he growls. “Cops.
Assholes. Guns. They’re all coming here, and I don’t want to be around for the
party.  Son of a bitch thinks I turned on him and now I’ve gone and shot Rex.
What a clusterfuck. We’ve gotta lay low, find somewhere quiet.”
    “No shit, Sherlock. Ok, genius,
since you know so much about them and what is going to happen, got a hideout in
mind? Another brilliant idea, like jumping out a window? Or hiding in