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assassin is always prepared.
    My brother’s teachings are always with me. Having learned from the best, I have an emergency bag stashed at the top of every building I’ve ever spent a length of time in, including the one I live in.
    Releasing Morgan, I yank the outer grate off and reach inside. My bag is still there, hanging from a metal hook that I installed on my first day of work, under the guise of installing security cameras.
    “What’s in there?”
    I pull out the tandem BASE jumping equipment from the backpack and shake it out. “Our exit strategy.”
    “We have to jump?” Stark fear widens her eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
    I shrug into the harness, double-checking it for safety before I make her turn around and secure her to me. “I know, but please be a brave girl for me, yes?”
    She gazes up at me. “I don’t have any other choice, do I?”
    The door bursts open, men spilling out.
    “No.”
    We run for the side of the roof, and as we get closer, I worry about Morgan freezing up. “You can do this,” I assure her.
    She trips.
    We stumble.
    The men see us.
    “I’m sorry,” Morgan cries, pushing against me. “I’m so sorry.”
    I don’t answer her. In tandem BASE jumping, one would step off the side of a building or bridge, but I don’t have time.
    I launch us into the open air.

Chapter Five
    Morgan
    W e’re free falling. I can’t see a thing and the air is whipping in my ears as we race toward the ground.
    Then again, I have my eyes squeezed shut so tight that I’m liable to burst a blood vessel or three, which will happen anyway when we hit the ground.
    I hear a whistling sound, followed by a grunt from Ben.
    “Are you okay?” I scream.
    “For now.”
    He moves his arms, then we’re tugged upward so abruptly that it feels like someone’s kicked my chest and sent me shooting backwards.
    My eyes fly open.
    I gasp against the pain, trying to suck in air, then scream again as a building looms in front of us. Forget the street, we’re going to make out with glass like a bug on a windshield during rush hour.
    Whether it was a change in the wind direction or Ben controlling the chute, we somehow manage to avoid it. We miss the next building as well, and I allow myself to relax, to trust that he will keep me safe. I glance over my shoulder at him. His face is hard, gaze locked on the London skyline. His hands are fisted around two black pulls, and I realize that is how we’ve escaped smashing into buildings. He’s flying us.
    I feel something hot and wet on the back of my leg. I want to touch what’s there, but I’m too scared to let go of the harness strapping me to him.
    The ground is rushing up to meet us, but it’s not made of pavement and cars. Instead I see green patches and large trees.
    “Bushy Park,” he shouts.
    I nod, unsure that he even needs me to, but I want to do something other than just dangle.
    “Pick up your legs,” he orders.
    I lift them so high that I’m sure everyone below can see not just the color of my panties but the kind of waxing I get done each month.
    We land, and I want to kiss the ground until all I can taste is dirt.
    Benjamin stumbles and I lower my legs to help catch him, almost toppling over. Finally, everything comes to a stop.
    The parachute falls behind us, a great, big billowy pile of black and white material. He unhooks it from his harness, gathers it up and shrugs off a backpack, only to shove the material inside.
    There are grooves around his mouth and his eyes keep scanning the distant tree line. He looks hard, dangerous. Far too dangerous for me, but what choice do I have?
    Besides, he landed us between rows of trees. I’m doubtful that many experts could have performed so well, especially under pressure.
    “No one noticed us,” he says, his gaze flicking to me. “This is a common sight for landings.”
    “Oh.” I wring my hands then stop, because it’s stupid. “Where to next? The police?”
    “No.” He slips his