Page 63 of A Fine Line

Declan must sense my inner thought process because he gives me another little shake, and when my eyes meet his, he says, “I mean it, Carolina. If I’m dead, there’s nothing you can do to help me. And if I’m not quite dead, you trying to help me will definitely make me dead-dead. You run like fucking hell. Get to the car. Get to safety.”

This time, I nod for real. His explanation makes sense, so I’ll do as I’m told. Declan nods in response, then makes a break across the parking lot, and I follow closely behind him. We hit the sidewalk, staying close to the building as we move quickly yet cautiously through the crowd.

We haven’t gone very far before a bullet ricochets off the side of the building, sending everyone screaming, which gives us some cover to move more swiftly.

By the time we get to the intersection before the second block, it occurs to me that these are not standard New York City blocks, and I’m wishing the shoes I’m wearing had been chosen for function rather than fashion.

We cross the street without incident, but halfway up that second block, Declan stops short in front of me, and I run into the back of him. I peek around him and see a handful of men blocking the sidewalk.

Declan turns his head toward me and says, “I’m going to distract them. If you go through the door right here on our left, it cuts through to an exit on the other side of the building. You can carry on with the directions I told you—hang a right, loop around, and the car should be there. Got it?”

I want to argue, but I don’t bother; instead, I’m nodding in acknowledgment. He steps away from me, and I release his suit jacket as he steps forward, posturing almost gleefully. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was Darius Hughes getting ready to make a bloody spectacle.

I don’t wait to see what happens. I do as I’m told, ducking into the building as instructed and racing through the hallways. At first, it feels like a maze, but I manage to make it out to the other side quicker than I thought, hanging a right and attempting to rush up the street inconspicuously.

Gunshots ring out, and I give up any semblance of caution and run, just like Declan instructed. I race up the street, spotting the white SUV on the corner, slowing my pace slightly so I’m more speed-walking than running, when the driver-side door opens, and a man steps out. When I get to him, he says, “Slow down, jackrabbit.”

A wave of relief washes over me as he opens the rear door, and I jump in, the door slamming shut behind me. The driver moves to get into the driver seat when three men rush over, one of them grabbing him from behind and yanking him backwards. One of the other men hits him in the head with the butt of his weapon, and the driver goes down in a heap, then the new men are climbing into the vehicle, their doors slamming as we take off into the traffic.

I take a few minutes to get my bearings, my heartbeat hammering in my chest as I go over my options. This constant merry-go-round of people taking me is beyond old, and while I’m not sure there’s much I can do about it at this very moment, there has to be a way to make it stop once and for all.

The man sitting next to me is smiling at me creepily, and my lip curls in distaste. “The fuck are you looking at?”

His eyes widen, and it occurs to me that in previous situations, I’ve rarely acted out before. I usually go with the flow of whatever comes at me.

The driver gets on the freeway headed south, and the man next to me places his hand on my thigh and squeezes. I narrow my eyes at him and spit out, “Don’t touch me.”

He leers at me, his hand on my leg moving upwards as he replies, “I was told I can do whatever the fuck I want with you.”

I grab his hand, flinging it off me and sitting up straighter in my seat. “I won’t tell you again. Don’t fucking touch me.”

My heart hammers in my chest, years of pent-up fury overflowing inside me, and then, he laughs. The motherfucker laughs. He’s reaching for me again, but now, I’m reaching into my vest, where my gun is hidden. I pull it out, not even blinking as I turn it on him and shoot him in the face.

The sound of the gunshot in the enclosed space has my ears ringing, and the driver in the front is shouting as the man in the passenger seat attempts to come over the middle console.

I don’t hesitate. I turn my body, the gun coming with me, and fire a shot into his chest, then another into his head as he falls back against the dash.

The driver’s still shouting, cutting off other cars as he attempts to maneuver the vehicle toward the side of the road. We’re traveling at high speed, but as the vehicle approaches the side of the freeway, he starts to brake, and I know if he manages to stop and get to me, I’m a dead woman.

I point my gun at him.

Fuck it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Tony

Aconsiderableamountoftime has passed by the time we land in Los Angeles. Luckily, the article Matt found earlier was local, and from the timestamp on the latest breaking news at LAX, it appears we aren’t as far behind them as we originally thought.

We’re driving to Declan’s estate when Nettie’s phone rings. She answers, listening intently and then saying, “Mickey found Declan. He’s going to send the address.”

I look at her in the rearview mirror and ask, “Carolina?”

She shakes her head as she listens to what Mickey’s saying, and then she ends the call. “Mickey said they’re doing a big cleanup downtown. Declan was found a couple of blocks away with a gunshot wound. About a block or so from him, they found one of Declan’s men knocked out on the sidewalk, so we assume that’s where they lost Carolina. They already checked the cams and confirmed three men got into a white SUV with her and took off south, but they haven’t managed to pick it up again, so we’re not sure where they ended up.”

I clench my teeth, saying nothing as I drive toward the location Nettie gave me. I take a few deep breaths in an attempt to get control of my heart pounding in my chest, but it’s not doing much.

Pulling into the parking lot, I drive up beside a large blacked-out van. Nettie is out of the car before I’m fully parked, but she seems familiar with the guy who gets out of the van, and they speak briefly before he hands her an item. She takes it from him, then turns and runs back to us, jumping into the back and tossing the object that she took from him into my lap.

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