Page 66 of Hidden But Not Safe

Naz found it slightly under Julio, with some blood staining the stripes. He’d have to get her another pair if the blood didn’t come out, or something better.

He crouched at her feet, and she clutched his shoulders for balance. She winced when he gently turned her ankle before slipping on her shoe. The ankle didn’t appear to be broken, and she gripped his shoulder with the hand she’d favored.

When he straightened, he lifted her in his arms.

“Hey! You’re the one shot. Put me down!”

He ignored her demand. She wasn’t limping her way to his motorcycle.

Naz headed toward the open warehouse door. Sunshine shone through, so he couldn’t have lost a lot of time.

Just enough to make all his planning and overthinking pointless. Leaving Rocks to the fucking end. Naz was an idiot.

He’d also forgotten someone.

Seb sat on the asphalt near Naz’s motorcycle. His legs were spread out in front of him, and he leaned back on one hand, smoking a blunt with the other and lazily blowing smoke into the air.

Naz let Meg slide out of his arms, pushing her behind him.

Seb wasn’t looking at them. He stared toward the woods.

Naz watched him. Meg remained silent, her hands clutching his shirt at his back, making it pull against his injured side.

“It would have been smarter if I’d taken off after leaving the warehouse, but I was curious.” Seb took another drag before flicking away what was left of the blunt. “That one gunshot at the end had me worried, but when there wasn’t any shouting after, I figured you only needed one.” He pushed to his feet. Naz tensed, but Seb moved slowly, his hands held out, peaceful and empty. “Julio and the others were always loud. Screamers, too, it sounded like.”

Naz didn’t remember the screams, but Meg shuddered behind him.

Seb’s eyebrows lifted as he scanned Naz’s face and soaked shirt and bloodstained hands. “Shit, you’re a mess. Would have been easier to shoot all four of the fuckers.” His eyes shifted toward the warehouse. “Gotta admit, I’m still curious. Might take a look before I disappear. You should, too. The disappearing part.”

Naz didn’t have to be told that.

“Julio was a prick, but he was blood to some. This’ll be messy, but I would have done the same if I were you. Glad I’m not.” Seb huffed out a breath and eased to the side, his curled lips lifting when he focused on Meg. “Naz is a good one. Try not to break his heart too bad.”

“Fuck off,” Meg said.

Seb laughed and walked toward the warehouse.

Naz stared at his back.

Meg took a limping step to his side, staring after Seb as well, who had paused in the open warehouse doorway. “Is letting him live smart? Not like the asshole helped you.”

Naz shrugged. He didn’t have any desire to shoot him. Seb had done what he thought was best. Naz didn’t hate the guy.

He wiped his wet fingers on his shirt before lifting his helmet over her head, his fingers hooking the strap. Her pupils were still blown wide, with only a thin ring of amber around them, and she squinted from the sun. He lifted her onto the back of his motorcycle before sitting in front of her. Meg quickly pressed against his back, her thighs hugging his hips and her arms tight around his torso, making his aches and pains worse, but there was no helping it.

It wasn’t anywhere near dark. The blood smeared on his arms and hands was drying but not invisible under the bright sun.

Good thing Diego was staying in one of the seedier neighborhoods, with meth heads on the cameras.

Naz had to take a roundabout way to get there. Meg started to get twitchy on the ride. Her thighs clenched tighter around him. She shifted against the back of his shirt, small movements that made him aware of her breasts, though she stilled every time the helmet knocked into him.

Her hands began to wander, and he placed one of his over them, squeezing to clasp them together again on his stomach before returning his to the handle.

He got them into the garage of Diego’s house, but no SUV sat there like before. Naz stared at the inner door, hesitating.

Meg didn’t wait for him to help her off the bike. She scrambled off, hands fumbling with the helmet strap, shaking, and he set the bike so he could step off to help her with it.

She stumbled back a few steps when he turned to set the helmet on the bike. A dim bulb lit the garage. Her eyes still showed she was high, and she was feeling it now. Maybe she’d been feeling it when his episode had scared her half to death back at the warehouse. Fear could spike as easily as euphoria when high.

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