Page 2 of Saving Bonnie

A light suddenly stretches along the ground like a beacon in the pitch-black night. Dumb and dumber must have gotten through the door.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I have half a mind to ignore it, but Frank may want to go offline. Reaching for it, I pull the screen around to see who’s on the line. Kassy, our IT and security specialist. Frowning, I hit the home button.

“You all right?” she asks, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah.” I check the area again, in case I missed something. “Why?”

“Montoya got one of his vibes, and—”

“Oh-oh,” Frank exaggerates the syllables. What the hell is going on now? “We got a problem,” he confirms.

Gathering patience, I force a question between clenched teeth. “What?”

“She’s back.” Grabbing the binoculars, I focus on the car coming in at the end of the street. Sure enough, the electric-blue Mini Cooper has a damn Uber sticker on the windshield.

It’s times like this where Montoya disturbs my goddamn calm. How the hell can Dante’s business partner be ahead of us when he’s on the ranch a couple hundred miles away?

“I have movement,” Frank announces. “They left a lookout in the car. Guy’s on the phone, likely giving a heads-up.”

The Uber stops in front of the café, and the driver fully turns in his seat. The door opens, and a pair of white, high-heeled sandals pops out above the door, held by Miss Bonnie herself. White ruffled top, little peach shorts that hug her ass, and some lime-green foam sandals they use for pedicures.

Goddammit.

The fucking driver takes his time pulling away, checking his mirrors for one last look at Miss Bustos’s assets. Fuck if I don’t want to just go push the car down the street on my own.

“What’s happening?” Kassy whispers.

“Two guys in the building, and she’s back early.”

“Oh damn. Why is she early?” Her nails do a rapid-fire tap across the keyboard then come to a sudden stop. “Baka! Forgot, there’s no security system. I’m blind,” she finishes, sounding helpless. Kassy did the research on Bonnie. Every Sunday, Bonnie takes an Uber to her mom’s house, coming home after ten o’clock. For whatever reason, she chooses today to break routine.

“So what are we doing?” Frank drops a tangled mess on my shoulders.

I don’t break protocol—ever. It’s kept me alive, and from being discovered, for all these years.

A shadow of unease settles over me, driving me to check on Miss Bonnie. She’s Iris’s best friend, practically a sister. And Iris, one of the few people I give a damn about, lost her mother and still has to deal with her missing father. Not sure how she’ll take losing someone else, especially when I could prevent it. Instinct kicks in as I spring up, turn on my heel, and fly down the stairs then jump across to the next landing.

“Got your back.” Frank’s voice comes in low and meaningful. I know I can count on him to watch what he says around Cord.

I’m breaking cover. If this goes wrong, neither of them can be involved. I jam the earbud in as I bust through the door and streak across the street. “May need you.”

“Got ya,” Kassy gives a curt acknowledgment as a disgruntled cat complains in the background.

I grip the top bar and kick off of the body of the fence. Redirecting my momentum, I’m in the air, hurdling the fence. Gravel. Unexpected, but I stick the landing, and I’m clear. Drizzle starts to fall. Perfect, what else can go wrong? Hopefully, with the rain, anyone in the area will decide to stay in tonight. If not, Frank’s gonna have to step up for as long as he can.

“Maybe they’ll hear her and run off,” Kassy suggests hopefully.

I dash along the side of the building, through the parking area, but somehow I know that isn’t gonna happen. The closer I get, the more my gut is screaming at me that things are gonna go sideways.

I sidle along the edge of the kitchen, blending into the darkness, and peer into the corner of the window. The jerkoffs are across the building, in the dining area, facing me. Bonnie’s in the kitchen, frozen in place as Skinny raises a Beretta nine mil, by the looks of it. “Never killed anyone before.” He grins and looks Bunny over as if he’s got a prize coming.

“Call maintenance,” I mutter to Kassy. “I’m going to work.”

*****

Bunny

They say when you’re about to die, your life flashes in front of your eyes. I got nothing. For me, it’s just tunnel vision.

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