Redemption (Enigma Black Trilogy Book #3) by Sara Furlong-Burr Page A

bike—a black one that appeared iridescent in nature, turning almost blue in certain angles—out of the line and walked with it until he was positioned next to me. “So what am I supposed to do? Ride with you? Hitch hike?”
    “Try keying in your passcode now.”
    I glanced up at him inquisitively and noticed the unmistakable smirk his lips had formed. Annoyed, I followed his instructions and keyed in my code. This time, the motorcycle roared to life.
    “Kara temporarily disabled your code to give me time to catch up to you,” he said.
    “What? That sneaky, conniving—”
    “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
    “Point taken. We need to get going. I want to put some distance between us and here before Victor finds out we’re gone.”
    “Agreed.” Ian typed in his code, prompting his motorcycle to spring to life. “What’s the plan?”
    “We’ll make it up as we go.”
    “Yeah, that’s not going to get us killed.”
    “Remember, it was your decision.” I sped off on the bike, with Ian taking off right behind me.
    We rounded the corner, passing the rows of Epicenter cars, heading toward the tunnel to make our escape. But as we got closer, a figure stepped out in front of us, forcing us both to brake and the motorcycles to skid to a stop just feet from the tunnel.
    In front of us stood Cameron, sweat beading on his forehead, a gun held firmly in his hand, aimed directly at us.
    *****
    Chase glanced up at the clock in the cafeteria of Hope Memorial Hospital. Eight o’clock; only three hours remained before his shift was scheduled to end. Outside the various food stations, vendors lowered the barred doors to their establishments, locking them for the night.
    Nearly all of the tables around where he sat by himself, picking at the remnants of a turkey sandwich, had emptied as visitors left for the day and hospital staff went back to their posts. Minutes later, only he and a lone straggler remained seated in silence.
    On the outside, he seemed to have it all together, but on the inside, his mind was racing. In a few weeks, he would no longer be able to check ‘single’ on his tax forms; in a few weeks, his last name would be given to someone else; in a few weeks, everything he always told himself he ever wanted would come to fruition. Then why am I not happy ? he thought, pushing away the sandwich he’d managed to absentmindedly mangle between his fingers.
    She left me , his mind told him again. She left me, and I moved on . I have moved on, haven’t I ? It’s jitters. I’m having last-minute jitters. That’s all it is. I would have had the same feelings if I had married her. I would have had the same feelings—
    Would I have had the same feelings?
    Chase closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and held it for a moment before he let it back out. This is right. This is right. I know this is right. I love her, and she loves me.
    I love her?
    “Ah,” he moaned.
    “Everything okay, doctor?”
    Chase opened his eyes and turned his head in the direction of the man’s voice. Next to him, a man—middle aged, possibly older—had taken up residence one table over. “Yeah,” he answered him, embarrassed. “Just a migraine.”
    “Dreadful, those things are,” the man answered him. “I get them from time to time myself.” He was unusually well-dressed for a hospital visitor, leading Chase to surmise that the man had probably stopped in to visit his loved one after a day at the office. As if noticing Chase’s assessment, the man removed his hat and placed it on the table near the seat next to him. “I was actually going to grab a bite to eat,” he said, “but it appears as though I’m a few minutes too late.”
    “I know a few of the vendors,” Chase said, sliding his chair away from the table. “Maybe I can pull a few strings and see if I can get one of them to open up their doors so you can grab something real quick.”
    “Oh, no, no,” the man said. “Really, that is very kind of you, but I