“What in the name of all that’s fecking holy is that?” Corbin muttered, pointing his gun. Green eyes glittered in the darkness as somethingbigshifted.
“Get in the truck,” Aspen whispered, shoving at me. “Go, go!” We raced back toward the Ford and slammed our doors closed in time for a huge goddamned cat to jump on the hood. I screamed like a kid, but everyone else was too busy yelling in terror to mock me for it. The cat roared, showing canines that could’ve gone clean through my arm and out the other side, then batted at the windshield.
“Is that a feckin’ tiger?” Jamie yelled. “Feckin’ Reyes! Shoo!” He waved a hand and the cat slammed at it from his side in a way that made me worry for the glass.
Aspen snorted, and then I started laughing.
“We could shoot it?” Corbin said, but he sounded uncertain, and I didn’t enjoy that idea. Our luck, we would only make it angry instead of killing it before it could gnaw off our limbs.
“Nah, back up a bit. It doesn’t seem happy.” Jamie put his hand to the windshield and the cat slapped at it again.
Corbin started up the truck and did as Jamie had suggested, and we were all relieved when the tiger bolted for the sunshine, then startled when a second and a third followed him out.
“What did we just do?” I asked, grasping along the seat toward Aspen. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it.
“Gave Reyes a whole heap of trouble to deal with. Someone’s damned sure gonna notice three tigers in Miami,” Jamie said cheerfully.
Corbin pulled the truck closer, and we got out again, careful to make certain there were no more surprises hiding in the dark. We stacked bricks of drugs in the truck. My back ached like a son of a bitch because the drugs weren’t light, and as soon as we had the bed full, we pulled the tonneau cover down and secured it. Then we stacked bricks in the cab, only barely leaving enough room for all of us to sit.
“Jesus,” Corbin muttered, as the sound of bullets tinging off metal alerted us that maybe we’d hung around too long. We piled inside again, and he reversed the truck out into the alley.
“Are we going back for those men that we brought along?” Aspen asked.
Jamie waffled his hand in the air. “They were hires. I expect the reason we’re getting shot at is they hotfooted it away. Or they’re dead.”
Aspen put down his window and leaned out to fire behind us. I turned but couldn’t see if he’d hit anyone or not because the men chasing us had plastered themselves against the wall. The truck burst around the side of the building and into the blazing sunshine as he sat back, putting up his window.
“Okay, slow down,” Jamie said, his voice higher than usual. “City. We’re in a city, Cor.”
Corbin gave him a nasty glance. “I know how to drive.”
“Aye, the last thing we want is to get pulled over right now,” I said with a laugh, and we all froze as blue lights blazed to life in the rearview mirror. I turned and gasped at the single green-and-white police cruiser behind us. My heart almost stopped and I slapped my chest.
“No,” Jamie moaned, his face in his hands. He’d turned to stare at our new pursuers as well. “What do we—”
“Strap in, boyos,” Corbin said grimly, and he took off. Despite the size of our vehicle, he navigated fast and efficient through the steady stream of traffic. It took a while, but he weaved the truck between any break in the cars he could, speeding whenever possible, switching direction any chance he got, and after far too long, we lost the cop car behind us, but we knew better than to think that meant we were out of hot water.
“We gotta get off this road,” Aspen growled.
“I know, I know,” Corbin muttered. “Sloan would want us to save this heist, if possible, but I think he’d be happy with the goods simply not in Reyes’s hands, aye?”
Jamie held his breath and nodded. Corbin drove us into the Port of Miami tunnel. We made it nearly out the other side, and then Corbin spun the truck across two lanes and stopped, blocking traffic. “Ditch the guns, lads. Get out and run.”
It felt like I was a teen in Dublin again as we abandoned the truck with horns honking, and I winced at a metallic crack behind me. We all glanced back. A tractor trailer had smacked into the front of the truck, spinning it around.
“Where are we headed?” Aspen yelled to be heard over traffic.
“Marina,” Corbin called back. He seemed to know where he was going, so we ran after him, and I hurt worse than I ever had in my life. We hopped the cement guards on the side of a four-lane highway and dodged traffic after Corbin, who was surprisingly quick for such a short man. When we got to the other side, I was half tempted to say a prayer of thanks, but then we all groaned as it became apparent we would have to cross yet another highway. There wasn’t nearly as much traffic on this two-lane road, and we dodged across in a group, heading for the palm trees and shrubs on the other side. We pelted through to a mostly empty car park that spread away from us like a gray, lined lake.
“Thank feck,” I said, slowing down, but Corbin didn’t relent. Aspen grabbed my arm and tugged me along as I picked up my pace.
“Didn’t know I would need me runners,” I called after the bastard leading us. Jamie groaned and wiped sweat off his forehead, but he was winded enough he didn’t have a smart-arse remark. Sweat glinted on Aspen’s forehead, and for a brief moment the thought entered my mind that I wanted to catch the drop on my tongue that rolled down his nose.
“Come on!” Corbin called, and I could’ve wept when a dock came into view with beautiful, glittering water stretching off into the distance. He took us right to a boat and got on the phone. Less than five minutes later, the time which I spent wishing like hell I had water to drink, an elderly man with a deep tan and no hair came rushing toward us, holding keys out and gesturing to the small red runabout. I wasn’t sure if this boat was Sloan’s or if the man was merely someone friendly, but we piled in, and I ended up having to sit on Aspen’s lap, which his lips twitched about—I would be fucked if Jamie or Corbin took the spot. It hurt when he wrapped his arms around me, but I was more afraid of falling out than pain, so I let him. Soon we were making a getaway across the sparkling water back toward the tall buildings and palm trees of Miami proper.
When we hit the sandy white shore, we had to slosh through water to get out, and every piece of my body ached. I snorted at the vehicle that was waiting on a paved path to meet us.
“What is this?” I asked with a laugh as we piled into the back of a boxy bread truck. The air inside smelled like heaven, and it was clear it had been used to make real deliveries.
