That’s all I remember, and it’s enough for me to pause before pulling in.
“Keep going, Rue,” Noah grits out. “You’ll be fine. Just sit in the car.”
“Is he on your side?” I turn to Noah, the worry leaking into my voice.
Noah shrugs and then kicks open the passenger side door. “Honey, no one is on my side.”
With that, he slams the door and leaves me with Bullet again.
7
NOAH
He’s looking too closelyat the fucking car.
My fists clench, and I clear my throat. “Let’s get this over with.”
Netty pulls his eyes from the windshield and meets mine. “Gina’s going to have questions about this. I need to be the one to do it.”
“That’s fine. You can leave your wife out of it.” I follow him into an interior room within his garage, weaving around toolboxes and motorcycle parts.
“I won’t do as clean of a job as she would,” he says, closing the door behind us. “But I’ve helped her enough, I think I can handle that.” Netty opens one of the cabinets and pulls out medical tools I don’t care to pay attention to.
I ease down into the black leather desk chair in the middle of the room and immediately feel the pounding of my heart. It’s racing like I’m in a sprint.
Oh shit.
“What’s wrong?” Netty eyes me as he continues to sift through the contents of the cabinet. “You look…off.”
“I don’t know,” I can’t quite put together the words. “I think I might pass out.”
Netty doesn’t react. “You’ve put your body through hell, Noah. It’s not going to feel good.” He reaches for a remote and then turns on a TV hanging on the wall. “Here, distract yourself while I work.”
My eyes flicker to the screen as it comes to life, the early-morning news playing. It’s already fucking four-thirty in the morning.
“Recovery efforts for Thomas Noah Peterson and the missing diver will resume at daybreak per an updated statement from the U.S. Marshal Service.”
I stare at the news anchor, her red lips moving almost robotically, and Netty pauses, his scissors mid-cut in my long sleeve.
“They think you’re dead.”
“Yeah, we’ll see if it stays that way,” I mutter, my eyes flicking to the door, where I know Rue is worrying herself right now.
Iwantto comfort her. Iwantto lay her down and make her feel so much goddamn pleasure she forgets this entire thing.
But… Something is stopping me.
And I don’t have time to pick through those thoughts right now.
“Fuck,” I seethe as Netty starts cleaning the wound. Sweat beads up across my forehead, my arm burning like hell.
“Lucky for you, it went all the way through,” Netty says, letting out a sigh. “It’s not nearly as bad as I thought it’d be. I’ll clean it up, wrap it up, and get you some antibiotics for the road.”
I nod as he keeps working. “I need to make a break for the border.”
He stiffens, his dark eyes catching mine for a second. “Mexico ain’t the answer for everything, Noah. Plenty of guys disappear domestically.”
“I know you have contacts,” I say carefully, knowing good and well the mules that Netty ran—and probably still does.
