In the distance, Lexie heard the wail of distant sirens. Had somebody on one of the nearby farms heard the gunshots? “Do you think that’s the police? Are they coming for us?”
“Do you feel like trusting our luck?” Faran replied in a weary tone.
She looked at the crumpled car, the stinking smear on the ground where Gillon had been, and at the glittering—stolen—rubies on her hand. Even with no actual dead body, there was no way this would end well.
Her hand gripped Faran’s. “You know how I like to run?”
Pressed against him, she felt as much as heard his reply. “Yup. I’m right behind you. Let’s get out of here.”
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