Third Grave Dead Ahead
Page 74
I followed him. “I’m here now.”
He paused and glared down at me. “I gave you until this afternoon.”
“And it is after noon,” I argued.
“It’s evening.”
“Which is most definitely after noon. You didn’t give me a specific time.”
When he started past me, I grabbed his jacket again, putting my meager life in danger if the glower he now wore was any indication. He glanced down at my hand as if unable to believe I’d touch him, then leveled a resolute stare on me. “Now, we do it my way.” He pulled free again and started down the sidewalk with a veritable army at his side. The prince tipped an invisible hat, then took off after his comrades.
What were they going to do? Knock on every door in the neighborhood? Harass everyone in the general vicinity until they got themselves arrested? I could just see a SWAT team pouring into the area, blocking off the streets. Someone would get hurt. Possibly many someones.
“I know who did it,” I called out in desperation, and they stopped. I hated to pull the reaper card, but he was leaving me no choice. If I called the police, I’d never get back in to see Rocket, and his information was invaluable.
No, this had to be done. I’d felt the guy’s guilt the minute I walked up. It was one of their own, a brother, and if they got ahold of him, he probably wouldn’t live through the night. Now I just had to figure out how to get the guy away from them and to the police before they killed him.
A sea of black leather turned toward me.
Donovan didn’t hesitate. He strode back past his brothers and straight into my face, a peculiar kind of anger hardening his jaw. Because I was still on the steps, I could see the alarm on Garrett’s face. He started to get out of his truck and I shook my head.
Both the prince and Mafioso followed Donovan and both seemed a tad worried. Well, the prince did. Mafioso seemed amused.
I stood my ground. We were standing eye to eye in a heartbeat, nose to nose the next.
“Don’t even think about f**king with me,” he said, his tone menacing.
“I’m not. I did some investigating this afternoon. I know who did it, but I need your word you’ll stay calm.”
His hands clutched my jacket in the next instant, and my breath caught when he pulled me closer. The prince shifted uneasily.
“You have three seconds,” he said.
“Wait, I’ll tell you, but I need you to promise you won’t hurt anyone.”
“Sure, okay,” he said, lying through his teeth.
Garrett had started toward us and I waved him back. When everyone turned to look at him, including Donovan, I made another gesture. I pointed my index finger in the air and made a quick circle, which was Garrett-speak for let’s wrap this up. If he picked up on my meaning, he’d get back in his truck and start it.
Donovan saw me gesture as well. He jerked me to attention as a couple of Bandits started toward Garrett.
“Wait,” I said. “It’s just a precaution. I don’t want to die today, okay?”
They all turned back to me as Garrett got back in his truck—every move reluctant—and started it up.
“Let me closer to Garrett. I’ll tell you, then I’ll leave.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “Do I look like a man who enjoys games?”
“Not at all, Donovan. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, but you’re angry and you’ll take things too far. A girl’s got a right to guarantee her own safety.”
When he glanced back at Garrett, I looked over Donovan’s shoulder to my left and leveled a cold hard stare on the guy who did it. He had stringy brown hair, a frizzy beard, and enough weight on him to make the run he was about to be forced into strenuous and most likely painful. The threat of imminent death should push him past the pain.
I wanted him to know that I knew, to worry. And he did. When his eyes widened a fraction of an inch in disbelief, I nodded so he would completely understand my meaning. Right as Donovan was turning back, I gestured to Garrett’s truck with my eyes, letting him know what I wanted him to do.
“Fine,” Donovan said, releasing my jacket with a soft shove. I stepped down and past the dog killer without trying to understand why he would do what he did. I flashed him a glare, then motioned toward the truck again. Slowly, so no one would notice, he backed that way.
When I was to the edge of the crowd, I turned back to them, trying to keep their attention locked on me. The biker was edging toward the truck, but I didn’t know how long I could put Donovan off, so I decided to improvise.
I rolled onto my toes, wrapped my arms around Donovan’s neck, and planted my mouth on his. He opened to me instantly. As angry as he was, he wasn’t about to pass up a chance at true love. Or an easy lay. He tasted clean with a hint of beer, and behind me I heard footsteps running across the street.
“Hey!” one of the guys yelled.
I broke off the kiss and watched the guy lumber across the street and jump into the bed of Garrett’s truck, but Garrett just sat there, waiting for me.
“Go!” I yelled.
He shook his head, and in that brief exchange, an army rushed toward the truck.
“Go!” I yelled again, rolling my eyes in frustration, and Garrett knew he had no choice. He threw his truck in reverse and peeled out to get away from the onslaught, then executed a wicked spin and tore down the street, rubber smoking a good fifty feet on the way.
They followed. A sea of leather ran down the street toward Garrett’s truck as it disappeared into the distance. Some went for their bikes. Some came back for orders. All speared me with glowers of distrust.
He paused and glared down at me. “I gave you until this afternoon.”
“And it is after noon,” I argued.
“It’s evening.”
“Which is most definitely after noon. You didn’t give me a specific time.”
When he started past me, I grabbed his jacket again, putting my meager life in danger if the glower he now wore was any indication. He glanced down at my hand as if unable to believe I’d touch him, then leveled a resolute stare on me. “Now, we do it my way.” He pulled free again and started down the sidewalk with a veritable army at his side. The prince tipped an invisible hat, then took off after his comrades.
What were they going to do? Knock on every door in the neighborhood? Harass everyone in the general vicinity until they got themselves arrested? I could just see a SWAT team pouring into the area, blocking off the streets. Someone would get hurt. Possibly many someones.
“I know who did it,” I called out in desperation, and they stopped. I hated to pull the reaper card, but he was leaving me no choice. If I called the police, I’d never get back in to see Rocket, and his information was invaluable.
No, this had to be done. I’d felt the guy’s guilt the minute I walked up. It was one of their own, a brother, and if they got ahold of him, he probably wouldn’t live through the night. Now I just had to figure out how to get the guy away from them and to the police before they killed him.
A sea of black leather turned toward me.
Donovan didn’t hesitate. He strode back past his brothers and straight into my face, a peculiar kind of anger hardening his jaw. Because I was still on the steps, I could see the alarm on Garrett’s face. He started to get out of his truck and I shook my head.
Both the prince and Mafioso followed Donovan and both seemed a tad worried. Well, the prince did. Mafioso seemed amused.
I stood my ground. We were standing eye to eye in a heartbeat, nose to nose the next.
“Don’t even think about f**king with me,” he said, his tone menacing.
“I’m not. I did some investigating this afternoon. I know who did it, but I need your word you’ll stay calm.”
His hands clutched my jacket in the next instant, and my breath caught when he pulled me closer. The prince shifted uneasily.
“You have three seconds,” he said.
“Wait, I’ll tell you, but I need you to promise you won’t hurt anyone.”
“Sure, okay,” he said, lying through his teeth.
Garrett had started toward us and I waved him back. When everyone turned to look at him, including Donovan, I made another gesture. I pointed my index finger in the air and made a quick circle, which was Garrett-speak for let’s wrap this up. If he picked up on my meaning, he’d get back in his truck and start it.
Donovan saw me gesture as well. He jerked me to attention as a couple of Bandits started toward Garrett.
“Wait,” I said. “It’s just a precaution. I don’t want to die today, okay?”
They all turned back to me as Garrett got back in his truck—every move reluctant—and started it up.
“Let me closer to Garrett. I’ll tell you, then I’ll leave.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “Do I look like a man who enjoys games?”
“Not at all, Donovan. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, but you’re angry and you’ll take things too far. A girl’s got a right to guarantee her own safety.”
When he glanced back at Garrett, I looked over Donovan’s shoulder to my left and leveled a cold hard stare on the guy who did it. He had stringy brown hair, a frizzy beard, and enough weight on him to make the run he was about to be forced into strenuous and most likely painful. The threat of imminent death should push him past the pain.
I wanted him to know that I knew, to worry. And he did. When his eyes widened a fraction of an inch in disbelief, I nodded so he would completely understand my meaning. Right as Donovan was turning back, I gestured to Garrett’s truck with my eyes, letting him know what I wanted him to do.
“Fine,” Donovan said, releasing my jacket with a soft shove. I stepped down and past the dog killer without trying to understand why he would do what he did. I flashed him a glare, then motioned toward the truck again. Slowly, so no one would notice, he backed that way.
When I was to the edge of the crowd, I turned back to them, trying to keep their attention locked on me. The biker was edging toward the truck, but I didn’t know how long I could put Donovan off, so I decided to improvise.
I rolled onto my toes, wrapped my arms around Donovan’s neck, and planted my mouth on his. He opened to me instantly. As angry as he was, he wasn’t about to pass up a chance at true love. Or an easy lay. He tasted clean with a hint of beer, and behind me I heard footsteps running across the street.
“Hey!” one of the guys yelled.
I broke off the kiss and watched the guy lumber across the street and jump into the bed of Garrett’s truck, but Garrett just sat there, waiting for me.
“Go!” I yelled.
He shook his head, and in that brief exchange, an army rushed toward the truck.
“Go!” I yelled again, rolling my eyes in frustration, and Garrett knew he had no choice. He threw his truck in reverse and peeled out to get away from the onslaught, then executed a wicked spin and tore down the street, rubber smoking a good fifty feet on the way.
They followed. A sea of leather ran down the street toward Garrett’s truck as it disappeared into the distance. Some went for their bikes. Some came back for orders. All speared me with glowers of distrust.
