Page 93 of Bad Seed
Reserved for the coupon crowd and those Mr. Ato doesn’t want to run into in the halls.
She’s there.
But the better question is how do I get to her?
“Woaw!”
“Sorry, Astin.” I push on the gas and lurch my truck forward down the road. He’s been shifting from hissing to threatening me the whole drive, but there’s nothing I can do. “Once I get Sadie, we’ll find a hotel, and I’ll get you out of there. I promise.”
Another hiss is his answer.
One of the girls in a skimpy apron waves me toward the parking garage. If I was smart, I’d ditch my truck far away and hoof it. But after the fucking flight delay, I’ve already lost too much time. They haven’t messaged me since, an either good or terrible sign.
Fuck, I hope the Bell twins find Sadie’s babble as charming as I do. Because if they hurt her…
Snap.
I pull my hands away as the rental’s steering wheel breaks in half. Shit. Rooting around for duct tape and a few other supplies I thought I might need, I’m distracted when the parking girl strolls up my window.
She damn near puts her tits on the glass while I tear the tape off with my teeth.
“Good evening, sir,” she says.
“Hi.” I jab the window button with my elbow and try to tape up the steering wheel. Good as new.
True to any Vegas employee, she doesn’t bat an eye. “Will you be dining with us tonight?”
I nearly groan at the familiar greeting. But my frown tips into a smile by sheer will. “Yes. I’ll need access to the celery tower.”
Her bright grin dims by maybe five percent. I can feel her calculating the chances of a tip, but she shakes it off. “Of course. Right down this path, take a hard left. You’ll find signs pointing to a door to the tower. If that’s all…?”
I stare down at the floor where a tackle box hides my only means of getting Sadie back. But what will running in, guns blazing get me? There are cameras fucking everywhere. A blind spot, sure, but that’ll only last for a few feet before someone spots me.
And I know they’re hunting for me.
That picture was both a demand and a warning. No matter what I do, no matter where I go, they’ll always have me.
Maybe I won’t make it out alive, but I have to get her safe.
Get her out of it.
My bullet riddled body collapsing at her feet won’t do it. I’m not the fucking Terminator. I need a way in.
I look up as the advert hanging off the parking garage ceiling shifts. A skinny man holds a knife and smiles as a list of amazing restaurants at the Crudité scrolls past.
Of course.
“Yes.” I turn to the woman who’s already started walking back to her post. Slipping her a hundred, I ask, “Is Chef Baylee working tonight?”
?
SADIE
“…and if you just let me check my phone. Or email. It’s probably in my email. I’ll email or call this guy you want. Talon.”
“Talong.”
“Right. Let me email him and we’ll get all of this sorted out. No problem.” I put on a smile, beaming all my hope that we can solve this misunderstanding without bloodshed.
