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Darius places a hand on the low part of my back and pushes me into Victor’s arms. “We got our steps in for the day. Time to get out of Dodge.”
“Agreed,” I rush to say in unison with Victor. We exchange a quick look before he moves me inside the SUV and Darius takes shotgun as we swerve into traffic as God’s angels look down. I don’t know what kind of luck I have but it’s warped. I escaped Genesis’s killers only to be caught by the devil’s hitmen and I have no way of getting away from them.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Seattle.” Augustine’s dark eyes catch the reflection of the glowing red of the dashboard. When our eyes connect through the rearview mirror, he looks possessed.
“To my father.” A wash of hope fills me.
“He sent us to collect you.” Darius pulls out a silk square of cloth and swipes at blood on his neck and then starts in on cleaning his hands. “You’re hurt?”
Darius turns. Gentle fingers fasten to my chin and black clashes against fake brown.
I fight his hold, but I have nowhere to look but into his eyes when he tightens his grip on me.
“Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?” he asks in an unhurried tone.
“I think so.”
“She’s not bleeding. I checked.”
I swivel my head to look up at Victor. He takes up his side and half of the space between us. If the mafia killer thing doesn’t work out, he could play a good defense for any sports team.
“I’m fine, but you’re still bleeding.”
“Caught the edge of a bullet. It’s nothing, but next time you try running from me I’m going to tie you to something so you can’t move.”
His raspy words stop me cold. I can’t believe what I am hearing.
My tongue feels heavy and thick in my mouth for a few seconds before my brain finally knows what to say. “Try and you will get the surprise of a lifetime.”
The way his face turns predatory when he looks back at me has me sliding Victor’s way.
“He won’t save you, baby. He’ll be the one tying the knots.”
I gulp air. “I guess we’ll see if it ever comes to that.” I move back to my side of the middle seat.
Beside me, Victor chuckles and twines the curled ends of my loose hair through his fingers. He drops them to take my right hand in his. The warmth of his palm is strangely soothing. I don’t know why, but I don’t pull away or tell him to keep his hands to himself.
“Here.”
Victor pulls his jacket out of the back seat. “You’re shivering,” he says and wraps me in his jacket. It might as well be a blanket with how it hangs off my slight shoulders. I shove my hands through the sleeves and hug the sides to me.
“Thank you.”
I don’t fight his kind gesture. Or shove him away. Besides, where would I go? Jumping out of a moving vehicle doesn't seem like sound advice.
“You said my father sent you for me? I don’t believe it.”
Victor reclaims my hand in his. “We have no reason to lie.”
“We deliver you, we get to name our price,” Augustine adds from the driver’s seat.
“Prove it.” Life has a funny way of making you learn life lessons the hard way. After my father kicked me out with no money and only a new name to my possession, I could only find work in dive bars where they agreed to pay under the table. I wanted no paper trail, and that was the easiest way to keep it that way.
The people in those places are less than honorable with little to no moral code driving them to find their next paycheck. The second someone opened their mouth, and it wasn’t a drink order it was probably a lie.
“Prove to me my father sent you. You want me to stop fighting you. You don’t want me to cause a scene between here and getting me to Seattle, prove he is the one who sent you.”
