Did you catch that? Emma's murmur sliced through the quiet of Lucas's penthouse living room. Eyes wide in the blue light of the muted TV screen, she touched her lips with a finger.
In the quiet, Lucas stopped the film; the remote's click was jarring. Rising from the sofa, his brows knitted together. "Hear what?"
Emma circled the coffee table and slid down the sofa, her feet quiet but frantic on the soft carpeting. Stopping next to the floor-to-ceiling windows, she gazed out at the metropolis. "There... outdoors. A yell. Could it be the sound of a car backfiring?
Lucas accompanied her, peering into the darkness. The sounds of the city filled the air. You weren't seeing the film.
Her brown hair swung over her shoulder as she shook her head. I wasn't. I've sensed an approaching presence.
Sliding an arm around her waist, Lucas's look softened. You are always in sync with the storm before it breaks, right?
Emma rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled into him. The stress just won't go away. It's as if we're hanging on a precipice.
The warmth of his lips anchored her as he kissed her forehead. Then let's ignore storms and omens. Return to me. He spoke softly yet firmly.
She shut her eyes and breathed in the aroma of his cologne—cedar and something personal. The surety of his arms around her replaced the nagging uncertainty within her for a time.
The lights flickered, and the power went off. Emma stepped back, gasping.
Lamps failing caused the flat to descend into semi-darkness. The outer city lights flicked off momentarily before coming back. Emma's heart raced. That was what?
With intentional serenity, Lucas switched off the television and placed the remote back on the coffee table. "Likely a transformer." These ancient structures cannot support the grid load.
The doorknob shook unexpectedly.
Emma stood still. "Who—?"
The door burst open before Lucas could respond. Weapons drawn, two masked people in black military gear rushed inside. Emma shouted, falling back into Lucas's chest.
Get down! Snarling, Lucas seized Emma's hand and dragged her behind the sofa. Drawing a concealed weapon from his waistband, he fired at the intruders.
The first shot broke the stillness. Ducking behind the entrance, one of the attackers shot the wooden frame with bullets. The other ran for the sofa, gun pointed at Emma and Lucas.
Emma's pulse pounded in her ears. With her thoughts racing, she pushed against Lucas. Why help those folks? Why should we care?
Lucas fired again, this time delivering a deafening blast. Clutching his shoulder, the invader fell back. The second guy aimed an advanced-looking handgun with a computerized display at Lucas, sliding it from his gear.
"Drop your weapon!" shouted the intruder, his mask's modulator distorting his speech.
Raising his hands, Lucas nodded slowly. All right. Emma, remain down. Setting the revolver on the ground, he fixed his gaze on the masked figure.
Emma wanted to go forward, to interfere; her heart wrenched, but she remained behind Lucas as he quietly dropped his gun. What do you want?
Weapon still in hand, the invader stepped closer carefully. "Where is it?"
Lucas's gaze turned to Emma. Defend her. Emma's heart sank as realization struck. They had come for the painting—the one she had completed after the stormy night of confession. That picture was the door to something considerably larger than her job.
Lucas responded, his voice firm, "There is no painting here." This is not the correct location.
The finger of the invader tightened on the trigger. Nonsense. He yelled a command into his wrist's comm device. He's deceiving you. Look them up.
Clutching the digital pistol wound, the second guy stumbled forward and lunged at Lucas. Behind the sofa, the two guys tumbled in a tangle of arms and limbs, their muted groans reverberating throughout the space.
Emma's breath caught as Lucas fought with the invader. Rushing to the coffee table, she tucked the revolver into her belt. Should he want assistance...
Luke's mask wrenched as he fell. Twisting the gun loose, he struck the wrist of his attacker and fell on top of him. The weapon clattered away as the invader went quiet, anguish emanating from the man's ragged breathing.
Scrambling to his feet, Lucas slid off him. Scanning the room, he saw Emma at the coffee table, hot cheeks and stolen weapon in hand. His eyes sparkled with relief and dread.
Lucas said, "Stay ready." He spoke louder. You requested that; hence, "Okay!" He rushed the second masked invader, climbing himself up. The two men fought, exchanging harsh, calculated punches.
Emma's head whirled. She wanted to run in and shout, but she bit her teeth and remained concealed behind the sofa. Lucas can manage him. She told herself. Should he call, you must assist.
The second man surprised Lucas by swinging an elbow. Lucas fell, and the intruder pulled a battle knife, cutting into his side. Hissing, Lucas parried the strike and turned the man's arm behind his back, pulling the knife loose and throwing it away.
"That's enough!" Lucas yelled, pushing his limits. He seized the person's wrist and pushed him face-first into the coffee table, the power shaking the wood. With a grunt, Lucas declared that the invader had lost the battle. Who sent you?
The injured invader scowled, but his mask concealed the response. Lucas smacked the man's head on the table after removing his mask. The man became motionless.
Emma's stomach turned with fear. God, no. Her eyes clouded as Lucas stood, examining the subdued invaders. From the first man's shoulder blood flowed; the second lay battered but still alive.
The scream of sirens came close in seconds. Lucas's touch was frantic when he took Emma's hand. Head to the rear door.
With her heart still racing, she blinked and followed his lead. He pushed open a side entrance to the fire escape. As they descended the metal step, the chilly night air smacked her face.
Below, the blue and red lights danced. Weapons drawn, officers ran towards the structure. Lucas examined the site and then turned to Emma. "Stay nearby."
Panic seized her as they arrived at the alley, the cold gnawing through her coat. What was it about, Lucas?
Lucas's phone chimed before he could respond. He looked down. Tessa. He responded fast.
Are you OK, Lucas? Tessa's voice was laced with desperation.
Lucas said softly, "We're fine, but we have unwelcome visitors."
What transpired? Tessa pushed.
Lucas, his voice somber, added, "They wanted the painting." Someone knew I had the painting.
Emma's blood ran icy. The artwork. She had invested her entire being into the artwork, revealing both her emotions and Lucas's secret. It was proof, more than art.
How do we proceed? Emma inquired, her voice shaking.
Lucas touched his lips with a finger. "Not here." He glanced nervously at the cops. "We have to go," he said urgently.
Turning to Emma, Lucas finished the call. Tessa is arranging our transportation. We don't feel safe here.
Emma's pulse quickened. Transport? What—
Lucas replied, his words tinged with urgency, "We have to depart the city." Right now.
Emma fought to control her voice and nodded. All right.
Slipping into the darkness, they fled the turmoil they had just left behind and away from the blazing lights. Emma's pulse raced with each step as she and Lucas navigated the narrow passageways, the sirens fading behind them.
Lucas led her via a tangle of backstreets to a plain warehouse. He tapped a code on the side door, and it slid open, hissing. Inside was a beautiful black SUV idling with its engine hot against the frigid night.
Lucas let Emma in via the back door. Climb in.
As he climbed in, he handed her the gun she had hidden. Keep your sights near. We're caught in the crossfire.
Clinging to the gun, Emma gulped as they entered the SUV. Lucas crept in next to her; the young guy in a leather jacket slid into the driver's seat.
Roaring to life, the SUV drove away, leaving the sirens and the penthouse heist far behind. Emma's thoughts were a tornado of dread and anxiety as she saw the city lights zoom by the windows.
With fiery eyes, Lucas looked at her. Emma, I apologize for entangling you in this.
Her breast became tight. "I'm glad you were here."
He leaned out and brushed a piece of hair off her face. You will not ever be alone in this. I swear.
Emma looked at him; the strength of his commitment grounded her. Still, the shadow of what had occurred remained—a reminder that their snatched moments of calm were at best fragile. The world around them was in a state of disintegration.
The distant skyline of the city was enveloped by darkness as the SUV vanished into the night. Emma's pulse raced, but behind the dread was a glimmer of will. They had one another; for the time being, that would have to be enough.