Marie Wyatt, an Allied courier in England, witnessed someone fall from her contact’s second-floor flat. Before she could respond, a stranger caused her to fall then insisted she accompany him.
“You’re going to kill me?” Her voice rose in pitch as This can’t be happening fought with So this is the end.
“I’m going to get you out of here.” He glanced at the upper story of the boarding house. “Your knee needs tending. Let’s go in here.” The stranger pulled her into the chemist shop, along a narrow aisle, and out a back door.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in her knee, she purposely stumbled. He let go of her arm and grabbed her around the waist.
He half-dragged, half-carried Marie through a maze of alleys behind the shops of Hatfield. She struggled, but he never flinched. When they reached a dead-end, he pushed her into a doorway and leaned against the frame to block her escape.
She stared at him and gasped. “I know you.”
“We’ve met before, in the Tube during a raid.” His British accent disappeared. “Though you have changed your appearance since then.”
“And you’re American. Neither of us who we pretend to be.” He took off his cap and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “We can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You prefer the SD? The Scherheindienst? Worse than the Gestapo and on your trail.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Twist would want you to.”
Her heart pounded as she stared at the stranger. His thick, wheat-blond hair framed cool blue eyes that seemed to penetrate her innermost being. Instead of flinching at her directness, his brows relaxed, and the chill of his eyes melted into the warmth of a spring sky. Though intrigued by those mesmerizing eyes, she forced herself to focus. “You know Twist?”
If he were telling the truth . . . but how could she know? He had stood beside her during the raid a few days before, engaging her in trivial conversation while the bombs fell over London. She’d been attracted to his handsome good looks. His charm. Maybe too attracted.
“Did you follow me?” If he had, and Colin found out . . .
He shook his head. “I knew you’d be here.”
“Twist told me.”
“Why would he?”
“We don’t have time for this.” He put on his cap, pulling the brim low over his forehead, and opened the door behind her. “If you want to live, come with me.”
Christian Fiction Friday is a weekly blog hop where authors post snippets from their current works in progress. It is hosted by Alana Terry and Hallee Bridgeman. Click here for a full list of rules and suggestions.