“Motherfucker,” I growled.
I broke into a run, heading off with traffic, knowing it would be hard for a truck to turn left with as much traffic as was still on the roads.
My feet slid, my pulse quickened, and my anger grew with each block I passed with no sight of the damn thing.
Until, at an intersection, I caught the taillights of a white truck as it turned into what looked like a lot or alley.
Bingo.
Flexing my fingers on the knife to keep them from going to sleep, I ran harder until I was at the edge of the building, waiting, listening for a second.
When I heard nothing, I peeked around the corner, spying the truck sitting there, engine huffing exhaust up into the air in an endless cloud.
Were they going to stop to empty it here?
I glanced back around, looking for a second truck or car hanging around, waiting to steal the loot.
But there was nothing unusual. Just parked cars. Just people heading home or heading out to holiday parties.
What was my move here?
As if to answer, I heard music spill out of the alley.
I waited a second before glancing, seeing the driver’s door slightly ajar and a jean-clad leg sticking out.
I didn’t stop to think.
I didn’t call for backup.
I was too accustomed to working alone, to making life-or-death and career-changing decisions on the fly.
There was no time to fuck around.
I flew down the alley, knife in hand, and made a beeline for the driver’s side of the truck.
My free hand shot out, grabbing the door, whipping it open, and using it to haul myself up.
If he’d had the common sense to watch his rearview mirror, he’d have seen me coming.
As it was, I heard the intake of his breath, saw the way his whole body jolted.
These guys, though, they weren’t just some opportunists.
Random joes didn’t come prepared for a fight, and that was a gun sitting in one of the fucking cupholders.
The driver’s hand shot outward toward it, fingers closing around it before I could react.
Inwardly, I cursed, knowing this job had just taken a sharp turn sideways.
Because I only had one move here.
I cringed at the shit I was going to get for it, then lifted my hand, and sank my knife into the bastard’s carotid.
I pulled back from the spray, knowing I’d have a big enough mess to clean up already.
As I did so, a movement caught my eye.
Then there was the passenger, wide-eyed, mouth agape, not sure how his payday went from an easy job to murder.
