Page 21 of Burn

“You want them to catch up to us?”

“In about five minutes,” Lunchbox said, then we were taking an exit and he increased his speed. “This is the fun part.”

The fun part?

I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on breathing.

“Here they come,” Alphabet said, his voice a steady contrast to Lunchbox’s lighter-hearted tone. “Left lane.”

“Already planned on it.”

A moment later, the window on the passenger side opened.

“Five,” Lunchbox said. “Four…”

Three…

Two…

I cracked my eyes open in time to see Alphabet toss the jar of liquid out. A moment later there was a bright flash, a whoosh of fire and I sat up abruptly. What the hell was that?

The car that had been pacing us suddenly veered hard right with a squeal of tires and slammed into the concrete barriers that kept the lanes defined.

Fire plumed up from the engine along with smoke.

“Nice,” Lunchbox said, a deep compliment in his voice. “I love it when you pay attention.”

“Yeah, fuck off, I wanted to make sure they didn’t keep following us.”

My mouth was open as I stared from one man to the other. Unhinged. Insane.

Absolutely fucking crazy.

“You had me holding a bomb.”

“Not a bomb,” Alphabet said over his shoulder, shooting me a grin. “It’s a Lunchbox cocktail, kind of like a molotov but with a little zest.”

“I was holding it,” I repeated.

“Yes, you did.” He winked. “Excellent assist.” Then he straightened to look forward and sighed. “Back roads?”

“Yep,” Lunchbox said, and we were already leaving the highway. We were in Jersey. We were still in Weehawken, maybe. Or maybe not.

I stared out the window for a moment, but continued to pet Goblin. I wasn’t sure who I was trying to soothe, the dog or me.

“They were going to kidnap me again, weren’t they?” The men in the house. Then the men in the car. That was a lot of people.

“That seems the most likely scenario.” Lunchbox glanced back at me.

“Why?” The man in the warehouse—the one they’d said wanted me specifically. He even told me he’d coveted me. ButI didn’t know him. Did he command this many people? What about the people who broke into the warehouse when I was there? The men who’d driven the truck?

None of this made any sense.

None of it.

“No idea,” Alphabet said, this time there was a rough sympathy in his voice. “But you’re safe for now. We’ll rendezvous with Bones and Voodoo. Then we’ll assess and make a new plan.”

New plan.

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