“He used to use me as a way to garner favors with his friends,” Silva says dully. “Luke and Brad will do anything to get ahead. I’m not surprised he’s still doing it.”
She’s too quiet, the spark is gone from her voice, and she’s gazing at her lap. My lips purse as I pull my hair back from my face and into its usual bun. It felt nice to have it down for a while.
Kyren turns in his seat to gaze at her, worry in his eyes.
“Do you want to stay in the car? I can find a different way to make the optics work on this,” he says.
Taking a deep breath, she shakes her head, but her eyes are still dull and lifeless as she looks up.
“Mi amor,”Izzy whispers.
“I got it,” she mutters. “I just can’t focus on more than one thing at a time. I’m one panic attack away from a vacation with grippy socks, Izzy.”
“Compartmentalizing and murder it is, Spitfire,” Syrus says. “Get your shit, guys.”
“Got it,” I say, climbing into the trunk to get the bag full of murdery toys.
At some point, Silva snuggled up with Izzy while she was sleeping, allowing me to pack a bag with goodies from the weapons trunk. We all have our firearms in our holsters, guns strategically placed, etc. This is more for backup ammo and fun toys.
“Here’s the plan, Princess. You’re going to walk inside, Silva, go to the bar and smile at the bartender. Pretend that you’re looking for a job,” Kyren explains. “Flirt just enough, and then look around and make eye contact with him.”
“Make sure he recognizes you,” Izzy grunts. “Then hightail it out the back door off the lobby and run for the woods.”
“We’ll be waiting,” I add, plopping back down in my seat, murder bag situated. There’s a cordless chain saw, plastic sheeting, and other odds and ends in the duffel bag as well. “What’s in your pockets, beautiful?”
Her lips twitch even as she dissociates, which I decide to take as a good sign. She disappeared so easily, it reminds me of my pack. We just…go away. No one’s home, no personality, and we make shit happen.
Her black cargo pants have a million different pockets, and her hand pulls out a knife, a lighter, and a stun gun.
“What else?” Syrus asks, twisting to watch her.
“It’s like you know me or something,” she grumbles, unzipping both combat boots to reveal another pocket knife and a small ice pick.
“Marry me,” I blurt out, jaw dropping. The ice pick is genius.
“Ask me again another day,” she says sweetly, kissing my cheek before putting her weapons away.
Syrus hides a smile, while Izzy and Kyren roll their eyes. There’s no jealousy, it’s just easy.
“I have my crossbow, a small saw to break up the body after, and there’s a change of clothes in the trunk for us all,” Kyren says. “Everyone is suited up with their guns and shit. We’re not going to use them unless there’s a silencer.”
Kyren glances at Syrus who rolls his eyes.
“Cops use silencers too, Dicknoodle,” he mutters. “I have one with my firearm, but I might need to borrow something so the ballistics don’t match anything on file.”
“Here. One thing we have is plenty of weapons,” Kyren snorts, giving him a replacement.
“Now, we’re set, outside of this,” Kyren adds, pulling out earcomms to hand to everyone. Silva pops it into her ear, biting her lip as she does. “Let me make sure these are all synced.”
A few keystrokes later, Kyren closes up his computer and puts it away, locking the compartment. There are many hideyholes in this vehicle.
“Let’s roll.”
Opening the doors, we all bail out, and I squeeze Silva’s hand.
“We’re going around to the woods. Do you want Izzy to go with you?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “He’s more likely to approach me if I’m alone. Brad doesn’t like to work too hard.”
