“SafetyStorage off I-5 in Downey. Unit 47.”
I pull out my phone to text River the location. It takes me a few tries because my hands are shaking.
Why the fuck are my hands shaking?
I stare at them like they’ve betrayed me. They don’t shake. They never fucking shake. Not in rooms like this. Not when I'm doing the one thing I've always been certain of.
“How much did you take?” I ask, refocusing.
“Fifty. Maybe sixty. I don’t know?—”
“Sixty kilos of cocaine and you thought no one would notice?”
“I was gonna put it back! I just needed time?—”
Before he can finish, my fists are colliding with his face in rapid succession. My knuckles split under the pressure, but I don’t let up. I need the release just as much as he needs the message.
I hit him once, twice, three times, then lose count somewhere around the seventh hit.
Bambi’s voice infiltrates my brain again.
I never asked you to protect me!
“Echo.” Briggs calls from somewhere behind me, but I don’t turn around.
“Answer the question, motherfucker.” I shout.
The man’s crying now, but I don’t let up.I can’t.I need to finish this. I need to stay focused. But all I can see is Bambi’s face.
“Echo.” Briggs calls again. Firmer this time.
I turn and glare at him.
“What?”
“You didn’t ask him a question.”
I look back at the man. His teeth are all shattered, and his face is a bloody mess, but he’s still breathing, barely.
Fuck.
“I need a minute,” I mutter, heading for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“I said I need a fucking minute.”
“We’re not done?—”
“I am. You finish it.”
I’m outside before Briggs can respond.
The air outside is cold, but it does nothing to distract me from the mess in my head. I take a seat on the curb and pull out my phone, and open the tracker. Bambi is home. She has been for the last forty minutes.She’s safe.
I close the app. Then I open it again and close it one more time.
What the fuck am I doing?
