Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 115964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
“Shouldn’t you be in there?” I motioned with my head toward the house. “Since you’re security.”
Jake snorted, hiding a smile. “Raize doesn’t need my help. I’m more the take-out-the-body guy and the driver. But between you and me, I’m hoping he gets a new guy that’ll do the driving. I get antsy, want my hands free in case we need to shoot, you know?”
I’d have liked to say I didn’t know because needing to shoot a gun at a second’s notice wasn’t normal. But it was for us.
So I nodded, settling back in the seat. “What’s he doing in there, anyway?”
I wasn’t looking at him, but I could feel Jake’s look sharpen. “You never ask questions. This because I asked about your family?”
I met his eyes, and no words were needed. It was the reason, or most of the reason. I might have had a small trace of worry about Raize, since I now knew he was the reason I wasn’t with Bronski again. It would suck if I had to go back to him. I’d probably have to kill him, and then who the fuck knew what would happen.
I had an agenda. There was a reason I was sitting on my ass in the cold car, or at least I hoped there still was. I wanted in with the Russians—just not through Bronski—and if we went to Texas, there were no Russians down there.
“You got family up here?” There might’ve been some attitude with that question.
He grinned. “Nah. My parents divorced. Mom’s gone—left our asses long ago. She’s got a new family out in Oregon or somewhere.” He turned back to looking out the front, his head bobbing. “And good for her, you know? My old man and me...we ain’t close.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”
“You asked.”
I shifted again. It was getting hot in this damn car. “You know what I mean.”
He didn’t answer right away.
I started to think he wouldn’t.
Then, still facing forward, he spoke. “I’ve been here a bit. You more. And I don’t know… We’re going to Texas, and it’s obvious we’ve all hitched our wagons to Raize, and he’s hitched his to you, so I figure what’s the harm in getting to know each other a bit? It’s not like any of us are leaving any time soon, you know?”
Yeah… I knew.
Still, I didn’t like talking about family. My mouth was tight, my answer even tighter. “No family.”
“Yeah.” He sounded tired and sad at the same time, but then he glanced at the house. “Raize got a new man.”
I looked.
Raize was headed our way, a big guy right behind him. The new guy looked uncomfortable in an oversized suit. But his face was bland—no tattoos, no scars. He was white, with some redness on his face like he’d been out in the sun too long. He had dark-blond hair that was flapping all over the place in the wind. He was a good five inches taller than Raize, who was over six feet, so the dude was big. He had a slight stomach on him, but that could’ve been muscle. The big clothes might’ve been picked on purpose, to trick anyone assessing into thinking he was chunky and not big and muscular. You couldn’t tell from his face, though his neck was just huge.
We were in Philly, so it was effing cold—a smattering of snow on the ground, chilly air. But as Raize walked toward us, it was like nothing touched him. His dead eyes met mine, lingered, and then he motioned to the guy. His words were muffled through the glass, but I heard him say “front seat” as he walked around the car and got in behind Jake.
Raize glanced my way once, then sat back. “Airport, Jake. We’re flying.”
Jake looked in the rearview mirror. “Papers?”
“I got ’em.” Then, “This is Cavers.”
Jake nodded to him.
Cavers nodded back.
“Jake, you’ll continue to be driver,” Raize added.
Jake’s eyes flicked to mine, but I looked away.
Cavers turned to look at me.
“She’s none of your business,” Raize said.
Cavers’ face closed up, and he faced forward like he’d been slapped.
He’d just been expecting the same introduction he got for Jake. Raize must’ve sensed this, because he didn’t say or do anything the whole way to the airport.
“Park in the long-term lot. We’ll be leaving the vehicle here. And, Jake, wipe it down.”
That meant we’d never be coming back to this car, ever.
I felt a whole new foreboding feeling, an itch down my spine, but what else was new in this world? I needed to get used to it.
No. That wasn’t true.
I never needed to get used to it. When I did, that’s when I’d be dead. I suppressed the tension that created, stuffing it to the back of my mind.
Could not go there.
Would not go there.
Jake pulled in, and we all got out.