Alone in the car, Cole pushed out an exasperated breath. He kept the engine running—he was still too nervous to let his guard down. As long as he didn’t have to watch the road, though, he did look at his phone.
No new texts. That could’ve been a good thing or a bad thing. No news could be good news, or it could be super horrible bad fucking news.
He opened the text app where he’d gotten the message from Lilith that had sent them flying out of Will’s safehouse.
I think Marcus told Alders that you and Yarmouth took the Puffin. Wherever you are, get somewhere else, because his minions know you’re in Vermont.
Even now he could feel the way his blood had turned cold and his stomach had hit the floor. He didn’t want to knowwhat kind of “minions” Alders had, but a narcissistic billionaire—particularly one who’d been robbed and humiliated in his own home—had the means to hire just about anyone. A team of actual mercenaries was not outside the realms of possibility. Neither was a hitman. Especially since Cole remembered seeing that one couple at the party who allegedlywerehitmen. There were rumors about those two—some of which were likely legends, but others were oddly specific enough that they had to be true. They were retired, apparently, and extraordinarily wealthy, living a life of weirdly-mismatched-but-apparently-happy wedded bliss, but a particularly enticing jobcouldpotentially coax them back into action.
He shuddered. Just what he fucking needed.
Well, if that was the situation he was in, then that was the situation he was in, and there was nothing to do but deal with it. While he waited for Will—for fuck’s sake, how long did it take to buy some chips?—he texted Lilith.
On our way to Philly. I’ve got a safehouse there near Strawberry Mansion. We’ll hunker down for a few days.
I’m stunned that you would go anywhere near Strawberry Mansion.
Desperate times, etc.
Fair enough. No one will think to look for you there.
Any idea who he’s sending after us?
Difficult to say. I don’t know if Marcus fed him more information than just blaming you for the Puffin theft, but he’s furious. He wants your heads, and he might mean that literally.
Great. I’ll ping when you when we’re in Philly.
The response to that was a thumbs up.
A moment later, the passenger door swung open, and by some miracle, Cole didn’t have a heart attack or piss himself. He’d even recovered most of his dignity by the time Will deposited himself in the seat with all the grace of a fish out of water.
Oblivious to Cole’s brief panic, Will shoved an open bag in his face and asked around some chips, “Want some?”
Cole glared at him. Then he rolled his eyes and shifted the car into drive. “Let’s just go.”
“Suit yourself.” The bag exited Cole’s peripheral vision, and it crinkled as Will apparently dug out another chip. As Cole pulled out onto the highway, Will said, “Uh… this is the way we came.”
“Mmhmm.” Cole turned left and accelerated. “So if that silver SUV is waiting for us somewhere downthatway”—he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb—“they’ll be waiting a while.”
Will crunched thoughtfully. “So you do think I was right that he was?—”
“I think it’s smart to not take unnecessary risks.”
“Admit it—I was right.”
Cole just rolled his eyes and kept driving.
“Where are we going, then?”
“Buffalo. I’ve got a place in Larkinville we can stay until we know which way is up.”
Will didn’t question him. Cole admittedly felt a little guilty about lying to him, just like he felt guilty about lying to Lilith.This was, however, one of those situations where he had to be extremely careful who he trusted… and he saw the value in dropping bits of disinformation to see who reacted. If someone showed up at his Strawberry Mansion or Larkinville safehouses, then he’d know there was a leak somewhere. Someone was monitoring his phone, the rental car, or a damn Airtag somewhere.
Or Will’s the leak.
Or Lilith.
He was startled at how vehemently he rejected both of those possibilities. He knew and trusted Lilith, but he shouldn’t have dismissed Will as a suspect as easily as he dismissed her. Even with some modicum of honor among thieves, Will wasn’t a friend or an ally. He wasn’t someone Cole could trust, not even knowing that Will was trapped in the same foxhole he was, trying not to get hit by the same bullets coming toward Cole. It was true that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but that only went so far. Will could still stab him in the back as soon as the crosshairs were off his own.
