Page 25 of Flame
“Damn, bunny,” Rafe chokes out, the first thing he’s said other than a few grunted directions. “My grandmother drives faster than this.”
“Then maybe you should call her.” God, I don’t recognize myself anymore—a stranger apart from the fearful figure who cowered in Branden’s shadow. This Hannah is angry. Seething. And worried.
Forhim.
All I can do is pour my energy into driving, recalling the few skills I learned before moving to the city. I won’t admit it out loud, but it’s a miracle we’ve made it this far.
“Turn here,” Rafe demands, indicating a shallow, gnarled road that looks unwelcoming at best. “Trust me,” he prods, sensing my hesitation. “But I won’t lie to you, bunny. Shit’s about to get real. Now park.”
I slam my foot on the brake so suddenly, Rafe grips the dashboard to keep from flying out of his seat.
“Fuck,” he hisses, clutching at his side. “Now… Do you still have the money?”
“Y-Yes.” I scramble for my bag, which I find tucked beneath the seat.
“Good. Now I need you to take it over to that building—” he indicates a massive industrial complex that looks to be about several years past its prime. Some of the windows are broken, the interior darkened, and plenty of rust is visible in the dim illumination provided by a streetlight. “You’ll find an old dumpster beside it,” he tells me. “Open the sliding door. Put the money in, and whatever is inside, you take it and run the fuck back. I’d do it myself, but we gotta do this quick.”
His tone alarms me more than reassures. “What are you—”
“I’ll have your back,” he says over me. “Trust me, I won’t let anything happen to you. But you’ve gotta do this. Now.”
He leans over me to wrench open my door.
“Go,” he snarls.
I move entirely out of reflex, stumbling to my feet. It’s quiet here. Every step echoes, amplified until it sounds like a million other people follow in my wake. Armed with only his money, I’ve never felt more exposed.
“Go,” Rafe prompts from the window. “You won’t be on your own. I’ve got you.”
He’s got you, a part of me hisses.As a puppet. A fool. Just like Branden.
But I rightfully ran away from that monster. This one? I blindly follow into the shadows, as stupidly as the bunny he mocks me for being.
Find a dumpster,he said.
The only one I find lurks behind the nearest building. From here, the car is hidden from view, and yawning shadows dance over a desolate pavement littered with broken glass and growing weeds.
The dumpster itself is rusted through in places, but sure enough, the door that, were it in use, would allow trash to be thrown through it opens when I tug on the handle. The interior has been modified—a wooden ledge provides a place to set the bills on, and resting in the space already is another case. As I reach for it, a flicker of movement catches my eye. I barely manage to pivot as a hand reaches out from nowhere.
“Who the fuck are you?” a man demands. A bittersweet stench tinges his breath. Alcohol? He’s bulky, his face obscured by shadow, but I instantly recognize the object in his grasp—a knife. “I said who the fuck are you—”
“We’re here for the drop,” someone declares from behind me. “She left the money. We’ll take what we’re owed and then go.”
“So, youdidshow, after all, you dumb son of a bitch,” the man says, laughing. “I hear your uncle whipped your ass good. But here you are, doing his bidding like a good doggie.”
“Leave.” Rafe’s voice touches on a note so deep my entire body vibrates in response. “Take the fucking money and go.”
“You’re in trouble from what I hear, mutt,” the man snarls. “Shen’s not too happy with you, is he? You must have pissed him off good for him to use you as an errand boy. But he gave you the wrong information. This shipment isn’t for you—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Rafe demands.
The man steps forward, and a stream of orange light illuminates his gaunt features. “I’m saying, you got bad information, mongrel. Now get the fuck out of here.” He deliberately reaches for his pocket, but suddenly goes stiff as I sense Rafe step forward.
“Don’t even think about it,” he growls.
“Like you have what it takes,” the man says with a chuckle, but he raises his hands in surrender.
Rafe’s shadow thrown over the ground gives me an inkling as to why. He stands at my shoulder, a slender object held between his fingers.
