“The way you said it sounds very nice, but your words are forcing my testicles to take cover in my abdomen.”
“Good,” Linda states, patting his shoulder. “Be careful out there. You won’t go on the field, but remember what you have beentaught. Go for the kill if you have to. We only have one shot at this.”
I fist my hands. The usual fear is trying to overwhelm me, but the memory of Ezra’s face reinforces my determination. I won’t stay here while he risks his lives—all of them. And I’ll keep myself out of trouble.
“Are we going to use your driver?” I ask Lori. We both drank, and I feel a little loose from the alcohol.
“No. But I have just the right person.” He smiles.
Fifteen minutes later, a taxi stops on the curb in front of Michael’s building. Lori tells the bodyguards to go back to their positions and gestures me to get in.
I open the taxi door and slide into the purple back seat. A sweet smell, like pumpkin latte perhaps, fills the cabin.
“Hi!” the driver says. “I’m Petunia. You a friend of Lori’s?”
Petunia is a young woman with black and bright green hair styled in cinnamon buns on both sides of her head, purple lips, and round glasses. She gives goth-doll vibes with the dark makeup, lacy, white fingerless gloves, and frilly black shirt.
“He’s Sully, my bro. This is the mostdiscreetdriver in Chicago,” Lori says, clicking both our seat belts in. His stalker kit is between us.
“And the best in Illinois,” she adds.
I utter a weakhi.
“We are stalking his boyfriend, this is the address,” Lori says nonchalantly. He checks the tracker app Linda downloaded on his phone and shows it to Petunia.
“Fun, another tailing,” the driver declares, while typing the address in the navigator.
Another?Does Lori call her when he follows Gabe? “How do you know each other?” I ask.
“It was fate. She helped me save a kid,” Lori simply says.
“Your bro is badass,” Petunia asserts with awe in her voice.
“We are kind of in a hurry, could you push on the gas, dear?” he asks her.
“Say no more. I’ll take the usual alternative routes so the Smurfs won’t bother us.” She leans over the wheel, looking very invested.
The Smurfs? I mouth at Lori.The police, he mouths back.
“Turn on the car’s Bluetooth, I have a new stalker playlist,” Lori excitedly shouts, tapping on his phone.
As soon as Petunia obliges, Corey Hart’s “Sunglasses at Night” starts playing in the car.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you enjoy…this.”
“Areyoukidding?” Lori’s laugh. “I’ve improved my skills and tried to perfect the art.”
Art…of stalking?
“Maybe it’s in my family blood. I need to check the old genealogical tree. There must have been a Michael Myers or an Alex Forrest somewhere on those branches.”
“Where’s your feathery pet this time? Hold on,” Petunia suddenly warns us before making a hard left. My body slides with the sharp movement, but the seat belt stops me from hitting Lori.
“Home. She watched the movieBirdsyesterday, and afterward attacked the pizza delivery guy. So I decided to keep her away from people for a while.”
Definitely a good call to leave her there. Maybe I should have done the same with Noodle. His small nose pokes from my hoodie’s collar. But I couldn’t leave him at Michael’s. Pink is there, and she doesn’t really enjoy his company. We didn’t have time to take him somewhere else.
“But we have a special guest—Noodle.” Lori points at the ferret’s face, now sniffing the sweet air.
