“The ones tied up in a major incident? Fuck no. I’d rather stick my dick between two slices of bread and make you eat it.”
“Consider me a vegetarian until that thought never crosses your mind again.”
I grin but pull my gun and cock it. “Gonna put you in my pocket but leave you connected. You hear anything like me getting shot at? Call Havoc.”
“Always wondered why you gave me his number.”
“Next of kin,” I grunt out as I sweep the room, finding nothing out of place and nobody hiding. I move down the short hallway to the back of the building and check the rooms there before heading up to inspect the apartment as well. The door is open, which makes me roll my eyes. I get that nobody’s living here and nobody can access this door without going through the shop first, but tonight proves it’s possible. Luckily, the apartment is clear. Though I don’t have a key to lock up, I make a mental note to get Midas to give one to Delphi so I can come back and lock it later.
“All clear. Must have just been kids fucking around. They likely saw the place was empty and figured nobody would notice.”
“This is why I don’t like kids. Kids are assholes.”
“I’m telling your kids you said that.”
“Of course you will. Bikers are assholes, too.”
I grin, heading out and locking up.
“Gonna let you get back to whatever the fuck it is hipster yuppies do. I’m gonna go find some wood to board it up.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” He hangs up, leaving me shaking my head.
My mind quickly slips to Delphi once more. These thirty minutes now have the potential to become three hours. God only knows how pissed she’ll be when I get back.
Chapter Five
DELPHI
It goessilent when he leaves, but I don’t move. Lying there, staring at the wall, feels about as productive as it’s going to get.
Sometime later, I hear the sound of a bike approaching. My room is on the opposite side of the house, so I can’t see the road from here. If the window wasn’t open a crack, I might not have even heard it.
I climb out of bed and crack the door open before creeping down the hallway to the room on the opposite side of the house. I turn the handle and push my way inside, pausing when one of the floorboards creaks underfoot. When I don’t hear anyone approaching, I hurry inside and walk over to the window. A biker that I don’t recognize sits astride his bike. His jacket says “prospect” across the back, which makes sense. The kid looks like he’s barely old enough to ride a bike, let alone join an MC.
I watch him until I see Kruger join him. He’s wearing his cut now, which was absent before. They talk for a minute before Kruger heads to the garage and reemerges with his bike. As he pulls away, leaving the prospect to watch the house, I feel an urge flicker to life. Now is the time to leave. There is nothing hecan do once I’m gone. And honestly, I’m in no frame of mind to be around a man who veers from Jekyll to Hyde at the flip of a switch.
I turn and survey the room. It’s not a bedroom like I assumed, but a small office. And when I say small, I mean it’s big enough for a desk, a bookcase, and what looks like a gun safe. I’m not sure if this room was designed with an office in mind, or if it is meant to be a nursery, but once the baby moved from a crib to a real bed, things would be a struggle.
Not wanting to waste time, I head back to my room. In my haste, I trip over something peeking out from the side of the desk. I hit the ground, my cast taking the brunt of my weight, making me cry out. I blink back tears as I take a few deep breaths, and eventually the pain ebbs.
Realizing the thing I tripped over is my bag, I grab it and look through it. My clothes are missing, which I expected, since they’re hanging in the closet. However, my iPad, charger, wallet, keys, and Kindle are still there. I hug the bag to myself, feeling relieved. It’s bad enough not having a phone because it got broken during the blast, but not having access to the outside world or books is something I wouldn’t be able to handle for long.
I get to my feet and hurry to my room, grabbing a couple of outfits that will be comfortable and easy to move around in with a cast. I throw in some underwear, flip-flops, and meager toiletries before pulling on a hoodie and sneakers.
I walk downstairs as quietly as I can, feeling like an anvil is pressing on my chest as I head to the kitchen. I rummage through the drawers, knowing he came this way for painkillers earlier. Bingo, there they are, still in the bag the pharmacy gave him.
I blow out another breath and pull out my iPad, opening the maps app to find my location. A quick Google search leads meto the nearest cab service that accepts online bookings. I book them to come and wait at the end of the road in twenty minutes, hoping that will give me enough time to sneak out and make it there. I use my name, but an address much farther down, and pay in advance so they know I’m not a hoax. Once that’s done, I put the iPad back in my bag with the pills. I look around for anything else I might need and my eyes land on the knife block. I reach for the small paring knife and slide it into the front pocket of my hoodie. I don’t take anything bigger—I’ll likely only hurt myself with it, given my current state. But I need something, just in case. Feeling a little braver now with a blade in my pocket, I head to the back door and smile when I find the key in it.
“Well, that makes things easier.”
I let myself out into the backyard. There is nothing remarkable about it. The lawn is neat, and there are a table and chairs for outdoor dining, but that’s it. There is no color anywhere, as if someone didn’t know what to do, so they did nothing.
I creep around the side of the building and unlock the gate. Thankfully, it doesn’t face the front of the house, but the side of the house where the garage is. I move until I’m at the edge of the building and peek around it. The prospect is facing away from me. He has a cigarette in one hand and his cell phone in the other. I don’t know if he’s texting someone or watching something, but the fact that he’s distracted only helps me here. I wait for a second, in case he’s lulling me into a false sense of security. Once I’m sure he really doesn’t know I’m here, I ease myself out of my hiding spot and move behind the garage. When I reach the edge of that, I peek out at the prospect. He still hasn’t noticed me. I creep down the footpath, holding my breath until I reach the corner, and swiftly turn. The second I’m out of sight, I let out my breath in one relief-filled sigh. Not wanting to push my luck, I hurry to the end of the path and wait. Thosefive minutes feel like five lifetimes until the cab pulls up and the driver confirms it’s me.
Once I’m in and my seatbelt is on, he pulls away from the curb and moves down the road, taking the turn I just snuck away from. As we move toward the prospect, I turn away. If he looks in, he won’t know it’s me. Not that I have any idea if he knows what I look like. After we’ve passed him, I lean back and let my eyes drift closed for a minute. The second I do, I feel eyes on me. It’s unnerving to say the least.
I open my eyes and find the cab driver staring at me in the rearview mirror. If it weren’t for the slightly concerned expression, I’d be creeped out.
