Page 101 of Mensa's Match

She waved a hand at me. “We got two rush orders, and they both paid the extra fee, so you’re headed to the UPS store again – before noon.”

As I stuffed my Boho bag into a drawer, Mensa’s warning replayed in my mind. I faced Aunt Nadia. “Okay. Do you mind if I borrow your car again?”

Aunt Nadia shot me a regretful smile. “Would if I could, but it’s at the dealer for the sixty-thousand mile service. They toted me back here because it’s gonna be such a long wait.”

She set the order sheet in front of me, and I got crackin’ on the order.

“Here’s your receipt. The tracking numbers are listed and will be active later this afternoon,” the clerk said.

I smiled and nodded, then headed for the exit.

The strip mall held two other businesses, one of them a popular sandwich shop. The small parking lot had twice as many cars in the lot than when I arrived. Luckily, I’d parked on the end opposite from the sandwich shop.

My purse bumped my hip as I walked, the weight of it reminding me I had my weapon. Even when I was an agent, I carried my gun in my purse so it wasn’t as noticeable in public. My keys were tucked in a pocket next to the gun, and I dug into my purse to grab my keys and unlock my car.

The moment I had my fingers curled around my key chain, I heard footsteps approaching. Before I could shift my fingers to the gun, a man wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me flush to his side. From the corner of my eye, I saw it was Rod.

“About time I found you alone, bitch,” he hissed.

I stopped, which forced him to stop. The self-defense tactics I had learned in Quantico came back to me. Muscle memory kicked in and I planted my feet to push into him while twisting out of his hold, but another man wearing a leather cut came to my other side, locking his arm around my waist.

“Never thought your tracking device would pay off, Rod. Night-night, dumb bitch,” the new man muttered.

I felt a pinch at my bicep. My head twisted and I saw a needle there. He’d pushed the plunger down before I could try to wrench my arm away.

Shit.

“What’d you give me asshole?” I yelled, hoping someone at the sandwich shop might hear me.

The problem was that we were headed the wrong direction for my voice to travel and whatever was in the syringe, it was kicking in fast. So fast I listed forward, and I vaguely noticed Rod and the other man caught me before I face-planted on the ground.

Chapter 26

Heavy Sense of Dread

Mensa

Cynic stood next tohis chopper with a saddlebag open when Mensa pulled his bike to a stop behind the clubhouse.

“Good morning, ‘Nic,” Mensa said, taking off his helmet.

“Not much good about this morning, man.”

Mensa’s head reared back. “Did something else happen? I know those assholes attacking Twisted Talons bugs you, but that take this morning is even more cynical than your norm.”

Cynic narrowed his eyes. “Long-ass night. Got here early for church, and Har can’t fuckin’ make it for an hour, maybe an hour and a half.”

He hung his helmet on the handlebar of his bike. “Then go take a fuckin’ nap, man.”

The frown on Cynic’s face made him look almost cartoonish. “Not a fuckin’ chance, Mensa. Haven’t taken a goddamn nap ina long damned time. Worst part is that I can’t even do anything worthwhile at Twisted because by the time I get there and start on something, I’ll have to turn around and come back after half an hour.”

Mensa sighed and realized it was the same for him, too. He could go spend time at Hard Pressed with Whitney, but he’d have to come right back here. Not to mention, he wasn’t much help there and he’d be wasting his time.

It struck him that he hadn’t been to the gym in over a week. “Gotcha. I’m gonna change clothes and lift some weights, if you want to join me. Might help you be a little less cynical.”

Cynic’s eyes went wide. “The fuck it will, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Why is the new door so expensive?” Tiny asked, following Block’s run-down of the costs thus far from the fire at Twisted Talons.

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