Chapter Seventeen
Lucky didn’t answer at first, his eyes scanning the shadows around us. He shoved open the door to a crumbling storefront, the glass shattered and the frame hanging crooked. Dust puffed up with each movement, the smell of mold and rust thick in the air, as he pulled me inside. Broken shelves and scraps of trash littered the floor, and the walls were scarred with peeling paint and faded graffiti.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” he muttered, locking the door behind us with a soft click. "But I know your feet must be tired." He was breathing heavily, but there was something off in his gaze. Like he wasn’t just relieved to be out of danger—he was uneasy.
“I asked you—how did he know where we were?” I pressed again, my heart still racing, the adrenaline from the chase pum
