Chapter 5 - The Bride Who Knew the Building Better
Harley did not run blindly.
She had spent half the morning wandering St. Jude’s with the wedding coordinator because the florist had delivered to the wrong entrance.
She knew the sacristy connected to a narrow service corridor.
She knew the service corridor led to the boiler stairs.
And she knew the boiler stairs had a steel fire door with an automatic latch.
Behind her, men shouted.
Harley hit the corridor.
Turned.
Reached the fire door.
Dominic’s first man lunged.
Harley slammed the steel door between them.
The latch caught.
His palm struck the narrow wired-glass window.
Harley raised the ledger case.
“Looking for this?”
His mouth moved.
She could not hear him.
Good.
Her phone vibrated.
Cassian.
She answered.
“Where are you?”
“Boiler corridor.”
“You ran away from me.”
“I ran away from armed men.”
“Toward a basement.”
“A lockable basement.”
A pause.
“That was not stupid.”
“Thank you.”
“Do not sound so pleased.”
She heard fighting in the background.
Not gunfire.
Furniture.
Shouts.
“Cassian?”
“I’m fine.”
“Peter?”
Another pause.
“Alive.”
“That was not the question.”
“He tried to help your father.”
Harley leaned against the wall.
Of course he had picked the worst day of his life to discover a conscience.
“Dominic?”
“Still in the nave.”
The man behind the fire door rammed it.
The frame shook.
Harley looked around.
Boiler room.
Old utility sink.
Maintenance cabinet.
A second exit sign.
She walked toward it.
“Cassian, I’m moving to the rear courtyard.”
“No. Stay where you are.”
Her temper flared.
“I am not waiting beside a door someone is trying to break.”
“Fair.”
The correction came immediately.
She noticed.
“Rear courtyard,” he said. “Marco is circling outside.”
“Better.”
She opened the second door.
Cold evening air hit her face.
Then someone grabbed her from the side.
Peter.
Harley drove her elbow backward.
He grunted and released her.
“Jesus, Harley.”
She spun.
His lip was bleeding.
His white shirt was torn.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to get you out.”
“You lost that privilege around the time you forged my signature.”
“I didn’t forge the first—”
“Stop saying that like it helps.”
He looked toward the alley.
“Dominic has police on payroll.”
“Which police?”
“I don’t know.”
“Convenient.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds like you.”
Peter flinched.
Behind them, the fire door crashed again.
Peter grabbed her arm.
Harley looked down at his hand.
He released her instantly.
“Sorry.”
That nearly hurt more.
He used to know how to be gentle.
“Why did you marry me?” she asked.
“This is not the time.”
“It is exactly the time.”
Peter looked wrecked.
“At first because Dominic told me to get close to Robert.”
“And later?”
“Because I loved you.”
“You loved access too.”
“Yes.”
The honesty almost stopped her.
Peter continued.
“I kept telling myself I could get out after one more job.”
“That sentence belongs in every bad decision ever made.”
“I know.”
Marco appeared at the far end of the alley.
“Harley.”
She raised one hand.
“I’m here.”
Peter tensed.
Marco stopped when he saw him.
Harley said, “He’s not armed.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t.”
Peter slowly raised both hands.
Marco searched him.
No weapon.
A siren sounded in the distance.
Peter looked terrified.
“Not them.”
Harley stared.
“Why?”
“Dominic called someone.”
Marco touched his earpiece.
“Boss says move.”
They headed toward a black SUV behind the parish hall.
Peter stopped.
“I can’t go with Cassian.”
Harley turned.
“You’re worried about him now?”
“He has reasons.”
Cassian appeared around the corner.
His tie was gone.
One knuckle was split.
He looked at Peter.
Peter went pale.
Cassian stopped six feet away.
Harley stepped between them before either man could decide something stupid.
“No.”
Cassian’s eyes met hers.
“He stole from me.”
“He stole from everyone.”
“He used your name.”
“I noticed.”
Peter whispered, “Harley, move.”
She did not.
Cassian’s voice was controlled.
“What do you want?”
“To get my parents safe, give the ledger to someone who cannot be bought, and make sure Peter lives long enough to testify.”
Peter stared.
Cassian said, “You still want him alive?”
“I want him accountable.”
Cassian looked at Peter.
Then back at Harley.
“Fine.”
Peter exhaled.
Cassian added, “If he runs, I break one leg.”
Harley pointed at him.
“No.”
“One shoe?”
Despite everything, Harley laughed.
Cassian almost smiled.
Then headlights appeared at the alley entrance.
A sedan.
Unmarked.
Two men got out.
Not uniforms.
Marco moved toward his jacket.
Peter whispered, “Dominic.”
Cassian stepped forward.
The men spread apart.
One reached behind his back.
Harley’s phone was still in her hand.
She hit the emergency shortcut Robert had programmed years ago.
911.
Speaker.
“Emergency services. What is your location?”
The men froze.
Harley said loudly, “Rear alley of St. Jude’s Church. Two armed men approaching. Multiple witnesses. Possible connection to financial fraud and threats.”
One man cursed.
The other ran.
Marco moved to chase.
Cassian stopped him.
“Let police take the car plate.”
Harley looked at him.
“That sounded legal.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Police sirens grew louder.
Actual marked units this time.
Dominic escaped through the front before they arrived.
But the ledger did not.
Neither did Peter.
And for the first time since the altar, Harley felt the shape of the fight change.
They were no longer trying to survive someone else’s plan.
Harley watched the marked police cars fill the alley and realized that calling for help had not made her weak or naive. It had created witnesses, records, and a boundary Dominic could not erase with fear.
Peter sat on the curb under supervision, looking smaller than he had at the altar.
Cassian stood beside her without touching her.
May you like
For once, nobody was deciding the next move for her.
They were building their own.
