No Matter the Cost

She put her hand to her chest, still unable to breathe.

He had dark hair and a beard, ripped pants, a dirty suit coat and wore such an intense expression of pursuit on his face, she just knew-

He was going after Alan Martin.

And she might never see him again.

No. Not again.

Not ever again.

He passed her, didn't even look at her, his gaze pinned on Martin, who'd vanished down the stairs.

And that's when she found her voice. With everything inside her, she let it out, praying he heard it through his...