Her vulnerability was disarming. For a moment, he saw past the desperate fugitive and just saw Lucy – tired, terrified, and relying completely on him.
"We need to get out of the city," he said. "Fast. And we need to get that locket to whoever Sparrow was supposed to give it to. Do you know who that is?"
"No," she admitted. "Only that it was someone offshore. Someone who could amplify the signal, I think Sparrow said. Make the information undeniable."
"Great," Gabriel muttered. "Offshore. And we're in a city where they control the police, the ports, probably the airport."
He looked at the locket in her hand. It wasn't just a piece of evidence; it was a death warrant for both of them.
He met her gaze again. The fear was still there, but there was also a spark of defiance, a fierce determination that hadn't been there before.
"You're brave, Lucy," he said softly. "Picking that up. Coming here."
A faint smile touched her lips. "Foolish, maybe. I just couldn't let them get away with it."
He reached out and gently took the locket from her hand. His fingers brushed hers, sending a small current through him. It was absurd, feeling a connection like this in a stinking alley with killers on their heels. But the danger stripped away everything but the essential – fear, trust, and a sudden, intense draw to this woman who had plunged headfirst into his nightmare.
"Okay," he said, his voice lower now. "We figure out how to get out of here. Together."
"Together?"
"They saw us leave the cafe together. They saw you run into that alley where I found you. We're a package deal now, whether we like it or not." He paused, looking down at her. "I'd prefer it that way."
He meant the 'prefer it that way' part more than he probably should have. The raw chemistry between them was undeniable, a desperate flame kindled in the dark.
"Me too," she whispered, and the simple words held a surprising weight.
A distant siren wailed. Too close.