Page 56 of Break for Me

“Do I have to throw her into the wall and kiss her too? Jesus. We’re not in a movie, Memphis.”

“What?” Trista asked.

“Jersey. Please. Stop touching her entirely. She’s a job,” Memphis said. “Just get out of sight and I’ll let you know when he’s moved on.”

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I couldn’t actually see this person and tightened my hold on Trista’s hand to pull her into the alley. I pushed her ahead of me and told her to pick up the pace.

“Back here,” I said when we’d reached the little alcove exactly where Memphis said it would be. I tossed both bags back in it first and waited for Trista to step in between the buildings.

“Don’t make a sound,” I said and put my entire body in front of her with my back to her so the width of me was taking up the entire entryway to this little area. I pulled my gun from its holster to click the safety off just in case, and I waited. I felt Trista’s hands grab either side of my jacket just at my hips like she was afraid if she didn’t hold me there between her and the world, something might snatch her right out of her hiding place.

“Bryson Evans,” Memphis said.

“Evans,” I repeated. “Again with that name. Why do I know it, Memphis?”

Trista’s hands shifted from just my jacket to digging her fingers into my sides at the mention of the name. I felt her lay her forehead against my back a second later.

“Wait, what? What do you mean again with the name?” Memphis asked.

“Who’s Nathan Evans?” I asked Memphis. “Why are these names familiar?”

“Nate Evans,” Memphis said, like I was supposed to understand something and I was a dumbass for having to ask. “He runs Philadelphia, Jersey.”

“How so?” I asked

“Oh my God. How can you possibly not know this?” She asked.

“I just do what you tell me to do, darling. Doesn’t usually matter why or who else is involved in any of it,” I said.

“He deals mostly in stolen arms,” she explained. “But his hands are in everything that happens in Philadelphia. He is the underworld there.”

I looked over my shoulder at the woman who was still trying to hide her entire body by squishing herself into mine.

“So, Bryson is his son,” I added. “Have we done jobs for them?”

“Mmmm,” Memphis hesitated.

“Right. Yeah, not supposed to know. I hear you.”

“He’s gone, Jersey. Walked right by and he’s wandering down side streets a couple blocks ahead of you now. Don’t stay there too long. He might circle back.”

“I’ll let you know when we get to the hotel,” I said and turned off the radio in my ear to face the girl hiding behind me.

forty-one

TRISTA

I felt like I was about to pass out.

And it felt so much worse when Jersey turned to face me while he had me trapped in that tiny fucking cubby.

“Tell me about stepdaddy,” he said.

I could feel my whole face scrunch into a snarl at Jersey referring to the man that way, but I had no idea what he expected me to say. He took a single step into the alcove with me and there was suddenly no wiggle room in any direction.

“Why would he pay my organization to bring you back alive and send his son out to find you?” He asked.

“Bryce wants me dead,” I finally croaked out. “Nate wants to torture me first.”

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