Page 107 of Four Seconds to Lose

I can’t put Cain in any more danger.

You don’t do that to people you love.

Cranking my Sorento, I pull out onto the street, the lights and stop signs blurred by my tears.

With no destination, I drive.

I know where my selfish heart wants me to go. I don’t even care about the China incident anymore. Given that I just had a loaded gun pointed at my head, it seems trivial. I don’t know why China was on his lap. He says he had a good reason and I believe him.

But I asked Cain to let me go. And he did.

Which makes what I have to do easier.

I feel the freedom I had tasted fading away.

As Jimmy tails me.

I’m surprised that I even caught on. I wouldn’t have, had I not looked in my rearview mirror at that precise second to see a black sedan three cars back make a left-hand turn, the streetlight reflecting off its shiny upgraded hubcaps.

It looked an awful lot like the same car I climbed into earlier tonight. Seven minutes and three turns later, I can’t deny that it is the same car.

I pass by the entrance to my apartment building—quivering at how easily I could have brought Jimmy there, handing him yet another bit of information that could lead him to Cain—and I continue all the way to a twenty-four-hour diner on the other side of Miami.

Far away from everyone I’ve come to love.

chapter thirty-nine

¦¦¦

CAIN

“Cain?”

The minimal hair that Tanner has left is standing on end as he answers his door, half asleep, the day’s sports highlights blaring through his apartment in the background.

“I need a key to Charlie’s apartment.”

He frowns. “Well... er... the laws say—”

“Fuck the law, Tanner,” I snap. “Either give me the key or I’ll bust down the door, and then you’ll be dealing with contractors to fix it.”

Grumbling something unintelligible, Tanner reaches up and grabs the giant ring of keys that hangs on the wall beside the door. He reminds me of a jailer in that regard, but I don’t say anything. Thrusting it forward with a scowl, I feel his eyes on my back as I march toward 1-D. Tanner’s a fantastic superintendent.

“Charlie?” I call out as I step into the dark apartment. I’m almost positive she’s not here because her car’s not out front. Still, I know she has a gun and I’d rather not get shot tonight.

Silence responds.

She could be back any minute, so I don’t waste time, heading straight for her bedroom. I don’t expect to find much, seeing as my closet and dresser are overflowing with her clothes and her feminine stuff has invaded my bathroom cabinet. In fact, based on my cursory inspection of her bedroom, the room is empty, except for the sheets on her bed.

And the bottom dresser drawer.

I start rifling through the assortment of workout clothes packed within—shorts, T-shirts, yoga pants—until I come to one... two... three... I pull out five wigs buried beneath. Blond, brunette, short-haired, long-haired. The strands are silky between my fingertips. I’m pretty sure it’s real hair, and if it’s real, that means these wigs are expensive.

Suitable for high-end disguises.

And high-end crimes.

The curly brown one makes a thumping sound as I whip it at the wall in anger. How did I not have a clue? I’ve been sleeping with, working with, falling for this woman!

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