I glanced over to the courthouse entrance just as Frankie burst out. A couple of his men joined him. They glanced around and spotted us. Fingers were pointed, their faces contorted with anger. Any minute now, shots would be fired.
“Go, go, go!” I yelled to Kodee.
He slammed his foot on the gas and pulled the car out into traffic. Frankie and the others were running for their own vehicles, though they were probably in parking garages, unless Frankie had already mobilized his driver.
“Dillon!” Rue asked, leaning forward and gripping the back of the driver’s seat. “Where’s Dillon?”
“Don’t worry,” Kodee said from over his shoulder. “He’s meeting us.”
“Where?”
“Not too far from here, but we’ve got to make sure we lose those sons of bitches first.”