Here I was, escaping through a shitty motel bathroom window, and I knew it wasn’t luck that we had this exit. Raize wouldn’t have picked a motel where we could’ve been cornered. We were probably running from local drug enforcers, and if anyone came to check the back, I’d have to shoot.
So I should probably have a weapon. Jake had his back to me, and I reached up, taking one of his guns from him.
He cursed, falling the rest of the way, and then glared as he swiped his gun back. Raising it to me, he warned, “You don’t touch this until you know how to shoot it. I’m not going to be taken out by a girl named Carrie. Got me?”
For some reason, I found that endearing. I grinned. “Got it.”
He rolled his eyes and reached up, grabbing the window so it closed somewhat.
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Then we took off down the alley, which connected to another alley, and we crossed a parking lot before hitting the street.
I didn’t know how to feel about what had just happened, but my stomach growled, and I decided that was more important right now.
I motioned to a late night taco truck. Since we were here, why not?
There were a few buzzed or drunk people also there so we’d have cover.
While we were at a picnic table eating our tacos, those guys drove past and took a left at the intersection. I nabbed a pic of that and sent it to Raize.
My phone rang a second later.
I answered it on speaker, knowing who it was. “Yeah?”
“Where are you guys?”
I told him the taco place’s name. “We’re outside, sitting at a table.”
“Those guys left?”
“Yeah.”
“They didn’t see you eating?”
Jake had stopped eating, waiting.
“I don’t think they know who we are.” Not that I knew who we were either. “They were just looking in the rooms when we left.”
“Is Jake there?”
“Aye,” he called.
“Listen, we can’t get away right now. Get a cab, go to a nice hotel. She’s going to stay in the lobby, and I need you to go buy a car. Local. Cash. No paperback.”
Jake’s gaze met mine. “Got it.”
“After you get the vehicle, go to a different motel. Have the girl pick it. Text me where you are.”
Jake’s gaze narrowed and his chewing slowed. He lowered his taco. “You and Cavers need backup?”
Raize’s response was brisk right before he hung up. “No. Do as I say.” And then dial tone.
Jake sighed, raising his taco again. “I ain’t doing shit until I finish my third taco.”
That sounded about right to me, too.
Tacos should always come first.
7
Carrie
After we finished eating, we did as Raize had instructed.
I babysat our bags in the front lobby of a Milton—sitting far, far off in a corner because I had no clue what was in these bags—and Jake went to get us a new set of wheels.
He came back with an older, black Honda Civic, the engine sounding like it was trying to eat its way out of the car.
I didn’t say anything as he approached me in the lobby, just focused on not laughing.
Jake snorted. “Shut it. It’s the best I could do. Boss is going to have to deal.”
We were just settling in at a motel on the outskirts of San Antonio when Raize and Cavers pulled up. Neither seemed happy when they saw us.
“What car did you get?” Raize asked.
Jake nodded to the black one parked in the lot. “That beautiful masterpiece.”
Raize gave him a second look before assessing the car. His lips pressed into a line, but he nodded. “Fine.” He was back to business, stepping inside our room. We’d gotten the same setup with a connecting door between the rooms. Cavers immediately went to the other room, and I could hear him opening some bags.
Raize shut the door and stood with his back against it for a second, his eyes downcast.
Jake and I shared a look. This wasn’t a good sign.
We heard the bathroom door shut in the other room. The fan clicked on, and Raize lifted his head. His eyes were blazing.
This was so not good.
“Go and get a tracker,” he told Jake softly. “I want one on his phone and one on his truck. Now.”
Jake nodded, grabbing his things on the way out.
Raize stepped away from the door and came closer to me. “You and he need to know what we’re walking into, but I can’t.” His eyes flicked over my shoulder, and I knew what he was saying. He couldn’t when a certain someone was close enough to eavesdrop.
I nodded. “What do you need from me?”
“Pack a small bag—bare necessities. We’ll leave it somewhere you can grab it if you need to run.”
Run?
Fuck.
Run. Running was bad.
I swallowed over a knot. “I didn’t get into this life to run.”
“Whatever the reason, you need to live to do it.” His eyes went back over my shoulder. “Pack the bag,” he repeated as he stepped back.