CHAPTER 28
The thief moved like a dancer over fences and around sharp corners. Lex followed in pursuit, panting for breath helplessly but refusing to give up. His assailant knew his way around the streets, but so did Lex, and when the figure in front of him made a quick turn into a familiar alleyway, Lex couldn't help but grin.
Sure enough, once he reached the end of the alley, the black-clothed young man—and he must be young to be so small and move so fast—had his back pressed against the bricks, suitcase held tightly to his chest, head frantically twisting and turning in his search for a way out of the dead end. Lex pulled the gun higher to aim for the boy's head, struggling to regain his breath before speaking.
"Nice game, kid, but take off the mask. Playtime is over." The boy didn't move, didn't acknowledge that Lex had said anything at all, just continued to scan the alley with large, partially hidden eyes. Lex closed in with three large strides and held the gun to the boy's throat with one hand while yanking off the mask with the other. Long, pale blonde hair fell down onto his hand and the barrel of the gun. He almost dropped his weapon in shock, but held tight, searching the girl's face. A dark, painful-looking black eye. Hollowed out cheekbones shaped a sharp, angular face. A thin strip of white tape lay horizontally across her obviously broken nose, not quite covering up the greenish purple tint beneath it. He searched her eyes, deep set in shadow and bruises.
"What's your name?" Lex demanded.
The girl eyed him over thoughtfully and relaxed against the wall, stretching her body out in front of him. "What do you want it to be?" She said huskily, in what she surely thought was a sexy voice.
"Chloe." He answered, without thinking.
She looked at him again, he felt like she was stripping him down to nothing, to the absolute bareness of his soul—or what was left of it—and he shivered under the intensity. After what seemed like a lifetime, she shook her head. "Nope. Sorry. Care to try again?"
Lex hadn't felt so exposed in years. He hadn't allowed himself the luxury, but he didn't remember it feeling so empty. He supposed that perhaps that was why he had stopped leaving himself open to it in the first place. He pressed the gun harder into her neck, hitting her pulse point. "Chloe, stop lying, I know it's you." He felt himself becoming hysterical. She apparently did too, as her eyes widened in what looked like fear.
"I'm not Chloe." She stated clearly and watched as he dropped the gun. She bent down to pick it up and examined it. "I knew you wouldn't shoot. You didn't take off the safety lock."
"Who are you?" He asked her, calm but with an edge of pleading to his voice.
She considered his question, then finally sighed and offered him a small hand to shake. "Mercy."
He grabbed her hand fiercely, needing the warmth that seemed to come off her in waves. "Mercy what?"
She squeezed his hand with surprising strength and stared him down. "Mercy Graves."