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“This is Marco.”
“I’ll be in the city today.”
“What time?”
“Two thirty. Newark.”
“See you there, big man.”
As promised, Marco is waiting in the arrivals lane when I step out of the terminal. My eyes instantly land on the blacked-out SUV, and I shake my head.
“I drive this exact car.”
“It’s a good car.”
Marco’s crooked smile is exactly what I expected from my assassin-for-hire friend. Her long hair is styled in tiny buns on either side of her head today, but she’s wearing her signature black lipstick and enough tactical gear to take down an army.
“I’m only here for two men,” I inform her, gesturing to the grenade attached to her belt. “This is overkill.”
“This is from last night.” She pulls into traffic leading away from the airport, flipping someone off out her window. “I didn’t have time to change before you landed.”
Nodding, I sink further into the seat. Even if we’re lucky and traffic isn’t stopped on I-95, this will be a forty-five-minute drive.
“You’re awfully quiet over there. Something on your mind, Gigantor?”
“I was just thinking I should have called D’Milo. He never tries to talk to me.” I smile sarcastically, and she rolls her eyes.
“D’Milo shot his own pinkie toe off.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. “Idiot.”
“Very much,” she agrees, changing lanes without considering her blinker. “Besides, that dickweed couldn’t get rid of a body if you hand-fed him the necessary tools.”
“Who said anything about getting rid of a body?”
Her eyes cut to mine in the most loaded look I’ve ever received from anyone. “You’ve never called me in before, Theodore.”
“You’re normally busy running the club, Alice.” She rolls her eyes at the name but doesn’t say anything else. “How are things going at Lace Ministries?”
“Good,” she smiles, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “We got a handful of girls from Grim last week. They’re adjusting well.”
The reach of the Grim Reaper will never stop surprising me. “I had no idea Grim brought girls this far East.”
“That’s because you never leave your little hidey-hole long enough to see what the rest of the world is doing.” It’s my turn to flip her off, and she laughs loudly. “Seriously, big guy, what the fuck are you doing in the City? Amaretti said your last time here was over five years ago.”
“Now you’re talking to Amaretti about me?”
“Had to get the afternoon off somehow,” she jokes, but there’s no humor in her eyes this time. “Who are we after?”
“A scumbag who’s been harassing my girlfriend.”
Marco nods, but I see the questions forming in her mind. “Did he run, or does he live here?”
“Lives here. He took up residence in my girl’s apartment, but I don’t know if he’s still there. That’s the other thing,” I add, reaching for my phone. “We have to take care of the landlord, too.”
She slows to a near stop as traffic crawls ahead of us. “Right.”
“Ask your questions, Marco.”
