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We had mere seconds before Cesare appeared around the corner. Kaylin dove into the back seat head first after me, and I slammed the door behind us. Then I reached across and shoved open the door on the other side, relieved that Black had thought ahead as usual and sourced a vehicle with tinted rear windows.
“Out. Stay down.”
“Huh? Why?—”
I snatched the kid from her and ran in a crouch, and thank fuck she had half a brain and duck-walked after me.
“Into the alley.” At least the kid had shut up, probably out of fear, but I didn’t much care why at that moment. “Get behind the dumpster and keep Matty quiet. Whatever it takes.”
Kaylin nodded, her eyes wide, and I watched from the shadows as Black pulled smoothly away in the cab. A moment later, Cesare sprinted into view, huffing and puffing because fitness wasn’t high on his list of priorities. Serge jogged outside, and there was much gesticulating. Slater rode past on his motorcycle, staying below the speed limit, right before a white Mercedes drove up and Cesare jumped inside. The Merc sped away, and it was clear the driver didn’t much care for traffic laws.
“What if they catch up with the cab?” Kaylin whispered.
“The driver can take care of himself.”
Cesare and a steroid-addicted buffoon versus Black and Slater? I knew who my money would be on, and they’d have to find Black first. The magnetic sign from the car’s door would be long gone, and he’d be lost in traffic by now.
A dented white panel van trundled down the road and stopped in front of us. The rusted side door slid open, and inside, the van was far from grungy. It was filled with state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, bags of kit, Bradley, and Hallie.
“Go,” I told Kaylin.
She ran, and I brought up the rear. Only once the door closed did I begin to relax. Thank fuck that was over. Okay, so the ending had been slightly hairy, but another successful operation was almost complete, another hostage rescued. Collier took the next left, then circled back past the wreckage of the SUV to collect Ana. The others would take surveillance-detection routes, and we’d meet at the apartment later. By then, Kaylin and Nico would be somewhere over Illinois or maybe Iowa. I reversed the dog’s sedative and began to breathe again.
“You okay?” I asked Kaylin.
“For the first time in years, I think I might be.”
“I brought champagne,” Bradley announced, because of course he had. “We can toast your new life.”
For crying out loud, we were in the middle of a job.
Kaylin shook her head. “No, thank you. But I don’t have an alcohol problem, I swear.”
“Couldn’t blame you if you did, honey.”
“Cesare only let me have wine on the weekends. Two glasses per week.”
“We believe you.”
“I tried to be a good mom.”
I put an arm around her shoulders. “We’re not here to judge. You set your own rules now. If you want a glass of champagne, have a glass of champagne. If you don’t, then don’t.”
The dog began yipping, no doubt thrilled about the idea of walks on the beach. Nico would need to buy earplugs.
“I think maybe I’ll wait until we’re out of New York. Nico’s really at the airport?”
“Wearing a hole in the hangar floor, by all accounts.”
“Does he know I’m with you?”
“He’s been updated.”
And my debt to him was settled. I collected favours like currency, but when I owed one, I always paid up.
26
KAYLIN
