Engine idling, I rolled down the Mustang's passenger window for a clear view of her and waited. My mind slowly retraced how I'd ended up here.
Viper had pinged in the afternoon while I was near Club Dionisius, looking for ways in that wouldn't involve Kimmy.
Someone matching your girl's description showed up on the security feed at the intersection two blocks away from the safe house. A couple of hours ago. Looks like she's on the move. So much for keeping her contained, boss.
He'd tacked on some other dumb joke right after, which I didn't care to hear. My heart had gone to my throat for some unknown reason.
When I'd tried calling her, there was no answer. The safe house was empty when I'd gotten there. Burner left on the counter. Viper had already been working on pulling her location and tracking her Uber activities.
By the time we figured out where she'd gone, it was the middle of rush hour and I'd just dropped off my Ducati at the compound to swap it for a less conspicuous vehicle.
Now that I watched her from the Mustang, the odd tightness in my throat was gone. Knowing she was safe, even though she pretended she hadn't seen me pull up and flash the headlights once, still overrode the madness in my head I'd been drowning in all afternoon.
Several long moments passed before Kimmy finally looked up from herphone. She stood up and walked toward the car. Her movements were sluggish, like she was waddling through water.
She slid into the passenger seat without a word and shut the door with more enthusiasm that I expected.
"Don't do this again," I said, pulling away from the curb.
"Do what?" She looked straight ahead.
"Leave without telling me. Without the burner. Without a plan."
The streetlights flickered across her face as we drove, illuminating the exhaustion etched into her features. "My foster sister needed help."
"You call me. You tell me what's happening. You don't just disappear." I gripped the wheel tighter, keeping my eyes forward even though they wanted to be on her and not on the road.
"How does it feel? To get a taste of your own medicine?" There was a strange edgy quality to her voice that I hadn't heard before.
"Getting emotional right now is not going to keep you safe."
"How do you propose to keep the rest of my family safe? First, these people attacked my mom, now they are targeting my sister."
"I'm here. I can help."
"And what? You tell me to stay put? To wait in that safe house while people I care about are getting hurt?"
"Yes. That's exactly what you do. You stay out of my way."
She shifted in her seat, her knee bumping against mine. "Fine. Stop the car."
"No."
"Stop the car, Seven," she demanded.
"I'm not stopping the car. You should calm down. You had an eventful day. Just let it go for tonight."
"Mini-therapy session isn't what I need right now."
"That's not what I'm offering. You are clearly being followed." I turned onto the ramp, accelerating smoothly. "If Valmont's people find you when I'm not around, it won't end well."
She didn't respond to that. Just slumped into her seat and stared at the cars on the freeway. The weight of it settled between us—the danger, the impossible situation, all of it unspoken.
We drove in silence for a few miles. I noticed her hand move to her temple, fingers pressing against her skin. Then pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Are you okay?" I asked, changing lanes toward the K-Town exit. I planned to circle around for a while, shake off anyone who might be tailing us.
"Just a headache," she muttered.
