Page 31 of Peace Under Fire

CHAPTER 7

Two cop cars went screaming down the street as Squish ushered Mandy out of the clinic’s front entrance. Other than a cluster of people loitering in the front lobby and another small crowd at the left edge of the building watching the drama unfolding around the corner, the front parking lot was deserted. Nobody skulking amid the cars. Nobody staking out his rig.

He dug in his coat pocket for his keys and hustled Mandy across the pavement on a direct bead for his truck.

Another squad car went screaming down Mercy Avenue, and squealed into the clinic’s rear parking lot, disappearing around the corner of the building where the crowd was watching. The gunshots and yelling had stopped. Sounded like the cops had the situation under control, which meant it wouldn’t be long before a hoard of blue uniforms spread out searching for them.

Time to get out of Dodge.

He hit the unlock doors icon on the key fob as they closed on his truck. There wasn’t time to sweep his ride for a tracking device or a bomb. Although a bomb wasn’t much of a concern. They’d been tailing him, not trying to kill him.

Or at least they hadn’t tried to kill him until they were sure he had Mandy. They wouldn’t have rigged his truck to explode before he left the clinic, not when they were expecting him to lead them to Mandy. And they sure as hell wouldn’t rig it to burn if they thought Mandy might be inside it.

A tracking device, on the other hand, was a real possibility. But something he couldn’t worry about—at least not now. He’d ditch the Dodge as soon as they were safe before anyone had a chance to find them. And not just because of a possible tracker. The Ram 2500 was registered to him. Even without a tracker, it would be too easy to find. After they left the truck, he’d call Grumpy and ask him to come collect it.

But when it came to lining up a new ride, one unconnected to him, he’d have to lean on Tex.

Sure, any of the boys on his team would be happy to fix him up with a new ride. But the bastards following him could be keeping tabs on them too. Tex, though, he was clean. The protocols and safeguards he had in place made it safe to reach out to him.

Nobody would find him or Mandy through Tex.

A plan was already forming as he steered Mandy to the Dodge’s passenger side. He tugged the door open and boosted her into the seat before leaning across her knees and pressing his thumb to the scanner embedded in the glove box’s locking mechanism.

“You have a thumb scanner on your glove box?” Mandy sounded incredulous.

“Surprised you didn’t see that in one of your dreams,” Squish drawled, as he pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, powered it down, and shoved it into the glove box.

The phone could be traced, maybe even while it was off considering all the new tech floating around.

He removed the Glock in its shoulder holster, and the Sig in its belt slide holster, and filled his coat pocket with extra ammo before shutting it and backing out of the car.

“Smartass,” Mandy said, waiting until the door was closing to respond.

It was hard to argue with that. She wasn’t wrong.

Before climbing behind the wheel, he scanned the parking lot again. Still no interest in them. The cops had blocked off the entrance to the rear parking lot with two nose-to-nose cruisers, their lights still flashing. Several uniformed cops had joined the crowd of looky-loos at the corner. Probably taking statements or trying to shoo them away.

The entrance at the opposite end of the parking lot was still open and unguarded though. Thank fuck.

Turning, he leaned into the truck and deposited the two holstered guns in the middle of the bench seat, then he stripped off his coat and dumped it over them, so they were hidden from sight, but within easy reach.

Next time someone shot at him, he was shooting back.

He glanced at Mandy as he climbed into the truck and fired the engine. She was touching the side of her head again. “How bad’s your head?”

“It’s fine.” She dropped her hand and looked away.

Squish frowned. Sure it was. That’s why she kept touching it. Because it was fine.

He needed to check the injury out, but it would have to wait. The danger of getting caught was greater than possible ill effects from the knock on her head. She showed no signs of a concussion. Her pupils were normal. She wasn’t slurring her words or having trouble moving. Her reasoning and memory seemed stable.

“Buckle up,” he ordered tersely, forcing his concern to the back burner.

“Should I lay down again?” she asked, her right hand hovering over the seat belt strap.

He shook his head. “Whoever’s after you knows we’re together.”

He’d rather she kept her head off his thigh and her mouth away from his dick. He didn’t need it getting all stirred up again.

---