Page 6 of Wanted 2

“Get a grip, Kass,” I muttered under my breath.

The Count was going to hate me soon enough. There’d be no licking and moaning in our future.

I hurried into the store. They had a few different mini models, one in a pen, one in a tiny cube, and one that looked like it was just stuck on a piece of Velcro. I bought all three. One of them would have to work.

I’d just closed my car door and reached for my phone to see where Don was when a hand pounded the window and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Six,” Don mouthed as he leered at me through the glass.

How I wished I didn’t have to roll the window down and talk to him. If only I could just floor the gas pedal and tear out of there, preferably running over his feet along the way.

But I couldn’t. Clenching my jaw, I rolled the window down a few inches. “The key?” I demanded.

“Six,” he said as he dropped the key in my lap.

“Yeah, got the message. Loud and clear. Six. Now, I’ve got to get back.”

“You’re not hearing me, Kass.” He gripped the edge of the window with his fingers and leaned down to grin at me through the crack. It wasn’t a nice grin. “I think you need a reminder.”

“Not really,” I disagreed. I revved the engine. I needed to get back. Now. Pronto. There weren’t that many hours left before the Count woke up, and I had to get the cameras installed today if I had a prayer of making the deadline. “Gotta go, Don. I’m pressed for time.”

“Those who don’t listen pay a price,” he said. He straightened, stretched, and then moved to the back of my car, saying, “We wouldn’t want Jeremy to pay now, would we?”

I rolled the window down the rest of the way and leaned out. “Keep Jeremy out of this. You know the deal.”

He bent over as if inspecting my rear wheel. I saw the flash, but I didn’t understand until he turned, and I saw the knife in his hand.

“What the—”

I shot out of the car, shocked.

My tire. My freaking tire. He’d sliced it.

He grabbed my arm and drew me up close. “Wouldn’t want that to be Jeremy now, would we?”

I didn’t really need to hear that. I already knew what was at stake. I didn’t need the mental images he was putting into my head. I replaced them with visions of my own, of Don’s head on a silver platter.

Then, he let me go and stalked away.

At first, I couldn’t move. I just leaned against the car to keep my knees from buckling.

Then, the sight of the flat tire brought me back to reality and anger chased out the fear.

I didn’t have time for this. Or money. Or a god damned spare.

Why?Why?

Just what had I done to the universe to deserve this? I mean, once you’ve decided to get on the straight and narrow, that’s when all the real problems and roadblocks spring in your way. Why did it have to be so damn hard? I was just trying to give Jeremy a better life. Surely, the universe could freaking respect that and just help out a little instead of putting Don constantly in my way?

With mounting fury, I drove my car two blocks to the tire store. Yeah, I know you’re not supposed to drive on a flat, especially this flat of a flat, but what choice did I have?

“I need a tire patched,” I told the guy that approached me with a well-practiced customer service smile on his freckled face.

He took one look at my tire and the smile vanished. “Sorry, lady, but this isn't a patch job. You need a new tire. Which means four new ones if you want the tread to wear right."

My irritation grew to epic levels. I was losing precious time. As it was, I’d be lucky to squeeze in a few minutes to hide the camera before the Count was out and about.

“Fine.”

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