Page 70 of Ten

“Yes.” The man’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Your parole?”

Ten nodded. “You?”

“Self-help books mostly. I was sent to a counselor after JoJo’s death, but she wasn’t much help.”

“You should try knitting or crochet.” As soon as he said it, Ten realized how ridiculous that sounded. Here he was, held at gunpoint, telling his captor to take up yarn arts as a means of emotional regulation.Fuck, I’m losing it.

“I think I won’t.”

“Listen, you don’t have to keep that gun on me. I’m not going to wreck or try to escape. I’ll help you find Kiki.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Because I want to find him, too. Nisha will never be safe as long as he’s alive.” He switched his turn signal on and began to move toward the upcoming exit. His captor said nothing as he left the loop and pulled into a gas station, out back by the dumpsters. He turned in his seat so he could look the man in the eye. “Did you kill that lawyer? Did you take shots at Nisha? Shoot Savannah and Chess?”

“No.” No equivocation. No protests. Eyes clear. Not a hint of dishonesty.

“Do you have a plan for catching Kiki? You’ve had me driving in circles like an asshole.”

The man winced before admitting, “I don’t. I had been focused on the others—.”

“The financial backers?”

His captor nodded. “When I heard Kiki had escaped, I acted impulsively. I seem to be five steps behind.”

Ten regarded him a moment and accepted his answer as truth. “All right. Get up here and sit in the front seat and quit hiding behind me like a fucking ghoul.”

The man hesitated but eventually did as Ten asked. After tucking away his gun and knife, he climbed out of the back seat, walked around the front of the Suburban, and then sat in the passenger seat. “My name is Alejandro.”

“Okay, Alejandro. Do you have a phone?”

“Yeah.”

“I need to make a call.”

“And then?”

“And then I’m going to take a piss and get something to eat.” Ten tapped Kostya’s dedicated emergency phone number and waited for an answer from one of his so-called spiders.

“Hen House Security. This is the Fox speaking.”

“It’s Ten. I need Kostya.”

“As in, you’re, like, actively dying and need help right-now-right-now or you need an address for a meetup?”

“Meetup.” He frowned and wondered, not for the first time, where Kostya found these women.

“Is this number good?”

“Yes.”

“The main storage facility. Red door. Do you require medical attention?”

“No.” He ended the call and tossed the phone back to Alejandro. “You can wait for me, and I’ll take you to my people.”

“Or?”

“Or you can run,” Ten offered. “No hard feelings.”

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