Imitation by Heather Hildenbrand

Author:Heather Hildenbrand [Hildenbrand, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Alloy Entertainment
Published: 2014-07-28T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Inside, the party is in full swing. Champagne flows freely and the music is fast and loud. I scan the room for Titus and find him locked in conversation with two men I recognize from earlier tonight. Politicians and financial investors. Hopefully, their mutual love of money and power will keep him occupied long enough.

Several people smile and attempt to capture my attention as I weave my way through the edges of the crowd. Brenna and Lacey stand near the bar, formidably beautiful in their cocktail dresses, an array of worshipers spread around them. I smile at them and avert my eyes like I don’t notice their waves or gestures to “come here.”

The key is sharp in my hand as I squeeze it against my palm.

When I reach the foyer, I glance around. A few partygoers wander this way but they are wrapped up in their own conversations. I sidestep around the partition and slip out the door into the stairwell.

The door clicks softly closed behind me and I blink as my eyes adjust to the shadows. I zip open my purse and pull out the ballet flats I squeezed inside, slipping out of my heels and into them. Then I adjust my dress, sticking the motorcycle key next to the cash; I will need both hands free if tonight’s escape is going to work.

The parking garage is two flights down and lets out in the alley where we parked, but I don’t go that way. Security will be watching those exits, just like they are watching the front door. There is only one answer: the fire escape that snakes from the roof to the alley below.

It is fifteen flights up to the roof. I am winded when I reach the door marked Exit in glowing red letters. I pause to catch my breath, listening for sounds behind me, but there’s no indication I am being followed. I shove the door open and step into the chilled air. It bites into me as I hike my skirt up and break into a run. Scanning side to side, I spot the ladder extending up and over the edge of the roof. My shoes pound out the rhythm of my heart as I race toward it. I toss my discarded heels and velvety clutch into a corner, hoping no one ever comes up here.

The climb down is painstakingly slow. I concentrate on keeping my movements sure as I put one tentative foot below the other.

When I finally reach the bottom, I am sweating and shaky from gripping the ladder. But then I spot the motorcycle shining in the half-moon’s light near the mouth of the alley. I break into a grin and run for it. I don my helmet and jacket and then, with a jerk of my arm, rip the slit in my dress up to my waist and tie it into a knot. With legs free, I swing one over and settle myself onto the narrow seat. I wrap my hands around the handlebars and adrenaline fills my veins.

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