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Then again, neither is Raylin. Or Hawk, who obviously has important ties to it. Need to ask him about that.
Meanwhile, the man points at the main street and Hawk rolls up his window.
And we’re off again.
I’ve taken the sling off and my arm aches. But no weakness, remember. So my cast is snug in the sleeve of my dress jacket.
Raylin’s hand clenches around mine as we roll down the main street, and I resist the urge to put my arms around her. Not the time to show any weakness. We don’t know who might be watching.
We stop at the mouth of another alley with a flickering lamp post shedding yellow light, and Hawk throws his door open. Following his lead, we follow suit and step out of the car which drives a few yards away and rolls to a halt, waiting for us.
Broken glass crunches under my shoes. I scowl at the dirty alley. A set-up. Has to be.
Need to trust Hawk to get us out of this alive.
Three bulky guys stalk toward us, Asian eyes, black leather and beefy arms. Awesome. They take their time reaching us, talking to each other, laughing over something. It sets my teeth on edge.
I’m ready for just about anything bad to happen as they come closer and the jut of gun handles in their belts become visible.
I feel the gun in the back holster, pressing into my ribs. I see Raylin reach for the belt strapped to the small of her back and stop herself.
Hawk only smirks and opens his hands. “Evening, guys.”
One of the men lifts his chin and steps in front of the others. My hands twitch, almost reaching for my gun when he grabs Hawk’s arm.
But it’s a greeting, apparently. Not an attempt at murder. The guy steps back again, and I glare at him.
Christ.
Then he turns to Raylin, and my hackles rise again. “Raylin O’Brien. We meet again.”
Wait. Again?
“Who are you?” she asks, her voice steady, and yeah, that’s my girl. So strong. “Have we met before?”
“Sure we have.” He shrugs off his leather jacket, and damn this guy’s gonna give me a heart attack. He’s not wearing a shirt underneath, and even in the dim light I can see the scar of a gunshot in his shoulder. “Wanna touch it?”
My arm twinges in sympathy. Then my brain catches up.
This is the man she shot. Goddammit.
Hawk thrusts an arm in front of me, as if knowing I’m about to launch myself at the guy, push Raylin behind me and take on the whole triad, if need be.
“We hunted you for two years,” the man says. “I hunted you. You were scared.”
Raylin glances at me, then at Hawk. No weakness. That’s what we talked about.
But she nods. “I was. Very scared.”
The man grins widely, showing a missing incisor. “Good. I’ll have that satisfaction, at least. And the money.”
Hawk turns to the car, takes out the briefcase with the cash and hands it over to him. “You can count it. It’s all there.”
The guy is still staring at Raylin as he grabs the bag, his dark eyes glinting. “This was your dad’s doing. He started it. You finished it.” He nods at me and Hawk. “Managed to hide from us. Got strong allies.”
Raylin cocks her head to the side, dark hair catching a hint of gold in the flickering light. “And your point is?”
She might have said she was afraid before, but there’s no sign of fear on her face, her posture. Never was, since we arrived.
