Puck shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We just can’t stay here, and that’s the important thing.”
I stepped back up to the forefront. “We need a place that has never been associated with us. We need a place that is so unassuming and so far out there that the cartel wouldn’t even consider coming for us there, much less trying to trace us there. That jog anyone’s mind on any sort of place?”
And the silence that came after my question made the situation feel hopeless.
“Well,” I said as I cleared my throat, “I, for one, would like to stay somewhere populated. If we’re around lots of witnesses, there’s less of a chance of them retaliating.”
Texas shrugged. “Or there’s more collateral damage when they do.”
Frost agreed with me, though. “Actually, he’s right. The cartel comes heavy for us when we’re isolated, but they’re all talk when we’re in crowded spaces. And you know the more shit they kick up, the further up someone else’s radar they get pushed. It’s not like they’re completely off the grid or some shit. The FBI and all sorts of other lettered organizations know they exist.”
Stone’s blank stare came to life. “Comic-Con.”
Frost paused. “The hell do you know about Comic-Con?”
Stone shot him a look. “Hayley was talking about it earlier. San Diego’s Comic-Con is happening next week. Maybe we could get a hotel near the convention center before all of the rooms sell out.”
Frost snickered. “You think they’re not already sold out? It’s less than a week before the convention.”
And that was when it hit me. “Actually, I think I can fix that.”
Texas’ eyes arrested me. “Explain.”
I drew in a curt breath. “I have some old friends out in L.A. that might be able to fix our hotel situation. They’ve got a bit of… sway when it comes to these kinds of things. Let me place a few phone calls and see what I can dig up.”
Stone nodded. “Get on it.”
I headed straight out the front door and pulled out my cell phone, but as I did, I looked toward my left and noticed something… off.
Where’s our van?
I slid my cell phone back into my pocket and walked over to the shaded patch of dead grass where the van should have been, but instead I found it empty. Barren. Panic gripped my heart as my eyes cased the ground, noticing the freshly-bent grass that led straight to the gravel pathway.
And for some reason, I just knew what had happened.
Chloe’s gone.
I forgot all about the phone call and rushed over to my bike. I dug out the keys to the ignition from the back compartment and didn’t even bother putting on my helmet. If Stone figured out that Chloe had simply left with our fucking van, he’d be pissed. And not only would he be pissed, but I was pretty sure he’d kick her to the fucking curb for breaking the rules and ditching me in the process.
So, I walked my bike beyond the crest of the gravel pathway before I struck up the engine and tore out of there like a forest fire raging through a dry valley.
It didn’t take me long to catch up with her, either. I mean, a big-ass white van careening down the highway didn’t exactly scream “incognito.” She kept slamming on the brakes so fucking hard that she left tire tracks everywhere she went. Once I got the van in sight, I weaved in and out of traffic, trying to catch up before she took an exit that had nothing on it except a rundown gas station and a diner.
And when she pulled into the parking lot of the diner, I wondered what in the absolute hell was so important that she’d risk her safety—as well as ours—just to eat a greasy burger.
I took a left while she took a right and I eased my way through a fast-food line. I kept my eyes squarely on the van as she stumbled out and made a mad dash for the diner’s door. The second she was inside, I parked my bike in the fast food parking lot. I rushed down the small, grassy knoll and kept myself concealed with the concrete pillars that decorated the outside of the rundown restaurant.
Then, after a few minutes of trying to settle my gut, I made my way inside.
“Welcome to Deena’s Diner! What can I—”
I pressed my finger to my lips, silencing the cheery woman at the front counter. My eyes scanned the place, trying to get a location on Chloe as I brushed past the woman. I felt her staring me down with an inquisitive stare, and as I crept down the small hallway, I managed to find what I was looking for without even turning the corner.
Because right there, in the reflection of the window in front of me, was Chloe.
Sitting with a suited man in a booth who I knew—simply from the way he sat—was a fucking federal agent.
Ten
