Declan tried the door again. It was proving to be a beast. Ever since he'd woken up in this sodding hospital, he'd been working at the lock. He'd rarely encountered a bolt he couldn't master given enough time and effort but was almost ready to daclare this one a lost cause.
Well, at least he hadn't been shot. Declan wasn't sure what had landed him here, but there wasn't a scratch on him.
As he squinted ata the smooth metallic bolt, he puzzled over what had happened. Hard to say what had come over him, reaching out for that light. Simple survival instinct? It had felt like more as he was doing it. Like he'd been chosen for something, and had no choice but to accept.
Silly bloody nonsense, he told himself. He'd passed out, and for some reason the Russian had fled. Someone had probably stumbled across him unconscious and brought him here. As to his door being locked, and no nurses propping in to check on him… no matter. He was alive, he wasn't hurt, and soon as this bloody latch gace, he was gone.
Last tim he'd ever taken a gig from a stranger, that was for sure. He'd whiled away more than a few hours wondering what inside that freckin' box had been worth killing for. No knowing now, chalk it up to a life lesson and call it a day.
He wrestled again with the pin. Fortunately, his pick kit had still been in his pocket when he came to. All his clothes were still on, in fact jeans, a Pogues T-shirt, and trainers. A bit strange for a hospital, but he was grateful for it. He'd hate to have to walk the streets of
He thought of his mum. After the necklace, he'd have a few euros left to buy her something, too. Maybe that nice electric kettle she'd had her eye on. She'd like that.
Click. The door handle turned.
a Rafflecopter giveaway