“Maldita sea,Fanso.I’ll be fine!” she barked.
“Maybe,” he ground out. “But we’re not taking any chances.”
“Oh, for feck’s sake,” Demon grumbled. From his pants pocket, he pulled a packet of alcohol wipes. He made short work of tearing open the package, pocketing the wrapper, and swiping it down her calf, removing the blood gently.
She hissed again, this time at the sting of the alcohol hitting the grazed skin. It was soon apparent that Demon was right in his assessment.
“See? She’s fine.”
“Midas,” Medusa cut in. “We need a new vehicle. Blown-outback window and bullet holes are going to look a bit suspicious if we keep going much farther.”
“Copy that.”
For the most part, the ride was silent after that, other than Medusa conversing softly with Midas over the vehicle’s communications system as he guided them to a pickup point for a new vehicle. They arrived at a chop shop in the heart of Racine County. As soon as they were out of the vehicle, men began to swarm it, tearing it apart within minutes. By the time it was reduced to pieces, they were inside a new vehicle and continuing on. They crossed the border into Illinois without incident and headed down the interstate into the heart of Chicago.
Daleyza watched the road behind them through the rearview mirror. Back on the interstate, an army-green truck joined them at the border into Illinois, two men in the front seats. They weaved in and out of traffic, but also kept pace with them.
“Fanso,” she whispered. “We’re being followed.”
“Green truck?”
“Yes.”
“It’s okay. They’re with us.”
“And the black one?” she asked, her eyebrow raised.
“Where?”
“Five cars back.”
He glanced in the passenger-side mirror to see if he could spot them. When he did, he called out, “Midas, check with Loki. Does he have an SUV on us? Black.”
“Copy.” Moments later, he came on the line. “Negative, but they were already aware. They spotted them at mile marker twenty-two. They’re keeping an eye on them. Good eye, Senora Ortiz.”
“Midas, we’re fifteen minutes out,” Medusa warned.
“Probably more like ten,” TB grumbled, his hand gripping the ceiling handle.
“Quit your bellyaching, you big pussy.”
“You drive like you playMario Kart,” he snapped back. “You’ll wreck on purpose if it means taking out the competition.”
“You’re just sore because you lost and had to be Princess Peach last time.”
Daleyza listened in fascination. “Are they always like this?” she murmured to him.
He snorted. “They’re usually much worse to each other, but everyone’s a little on edge right now and trying to keep it together.”
“Fanso—”
He gripped her thigh. Her leg had never left his lap since he pulled it there. “Not now. I promise. I’ll explain when we’re safe.”
She let out a frustrated huff, which he couldn’t help but find cute. She was so impatient. Always. Reminded him of Kubrick.
He winced as his conscience punched at his gut. His secrets were going to cost them far too much.
Fifteen minutes had passed since Daleyza had noticed their tail, and they pulled up to a 1970s split-level home. Medusa backed into the garage in case they needed to make a quick getaway, and no one exited until the door had closed in front of them. She stayed behind to top off the truck’s gas tank from emergency cans stored there in case they needed to make a quick getaway at any point.
