“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Diego’s voice boomed inside the quiet house.
There was a long beat before Lewis answered. “I grabbed the wrong folder. You said yourjefewanted to see quarterly reports and these are just earnings.”
“Hurry the fuck up. I have plans.”
A shiver stole down my spine, certain I was the plans he spoke of. I finally got to my feet and turned to face the window, risking a peek outside. Lewis’ gray-green minivan sat beneath the window, about a six-foot drop just as he said. I clenched my jaw tight and exhaled through my nose, prepping myself for what needed to be done.
You can do this. You have to do this.
I moved slowly, flipping the lock on the tiny window, gripping the edge, and slowly pushing it open. I closed my eyes and waited for horns and sirens to sound, some kind of security measure to keep me locked inside. Nothing happened and I pushed the window open as far as it would go.
“I’ll just leave the keys,” Lewis said just loud enough to be heard before he shuffled back inside.
This is it.
The window was small as fuck, but I managed to shimmy through with my ass perched on the edge. One wrong move and I’d fall, probably killing myself on top of Lewis’ car. I silently counted to three before I inhaled deeply and jumped on the exhale. I groaned when I landed on top of the minivan.
I rolled to one side and fell off the damn roof, straight onto the gravel filled driveway. It hurt like hell, but I scrambled to my feet, staying low as I slid behind the steering wheel and started the engine. Before I could second guess anything, I shifted gears and stepped on the gas.
I turned right just as the front door opened and Lewis rushed out. “Hey! That’s my car!” he shouted half-heartedly.
Indecision warred within me but ultimately, I slowed down, urging him to run faster. Diego appeared and acid settled in my gut. “Hurry,” I mouthed the words as Diego produced a gun and took aim—at me or Lewis, I wasn’t sure—before he squeezed the trigger.
Lewis froze, his eyes wide with fear and shock before he fell to his knees, blood blooming on the front of his shirt.
“Lewis!” I shouted as he fell face first onto the concrete.
“You’re mine, bitch!” Diego’s face was red and angry. His gun aimed at me.
I pressed the gas again and took off. I risked a quick stop at my apartment to grab a few things I wanted with me—photos of me and my best friend I hadn’t seen in a decade, important documents and one change of clothes—and I started driving again until Birmingham became Montgomery, stopping at ATMs along the way until my checking account was empty.
I had to call Lewis’ wife, offering a quick explanation of everything on the off-chance she knew who her husband’s clients were.
“He tried to save me and I feel so bad about that, but you need to know. Just in case.” It was less than she deserved, but I couldn’t stand still too long.
I had a hundred bucks in my backpack plus all the cash from the ATM, it totaled a little over three grand. It wasn’t much but it would get me out of Alabama without leaving a trace.
I hopped on the first Greyhound that left the bus terminal and took it until the driver said I had to get off.
It was time to start over.
Again.
Chapter One
Vandal
Six Months Later
“Yo,” Falcon called out over the buzz of my tattoo gun. I heard him but I was in the zone. He smacked the wall and the lights went off, forcing me to stop.
“What the fuck, man?” I glared over my shoulder but my friend, my brother, smirked.
“You got a visitor.”
“Awhat?”
He snorted. “You don’t understand English no more?”
