Page 95 of Fixed Asset

Mason shrugged. “You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

That was rich coming from the untrusting Mason.

“Let’s go,” Pete ordered.

With a kiss to the top of Cat’s head, I stepped away from her.

“Where’s my bag?”

“Gone.”

“Bummer. My burner was in there. Now I need a new one.”

I gritted my teeth.

“I think I might vomit,” Cat complained.

“For a badass, you sure do have a weak stomach.”

Cat was sitting with her head between her legs. This time I couldn’t make any excuses for her. At the speed Pete had us at, the boat was barely rocking.

“Almost there,” I told her.

“What happened back there?” Pete asked.

“Which part?” Calista returned.

“Start with how you escaped the hotel.”

“Carlos had me at the hotel. He had two guys with him and a woman. One second I’m tied to a bed, they’re watching TV, the next second the door’s kicked in and four men come in. They shot Carlos, the woman, and his pals. Then one of them untied me and dragged me out to a car.”

“And you jumped from the car?” Pete continued to question.

“Yep.”

“You jumped from a moving car?” he asked again.

“Yeah, after I punched the guy next to me in his dick and took his gun.”

Catarina lifted her head, turned to look at Calista, and smiled.

“I think I like you. That is, when you’re not pointing a gun at my head.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Come again?”

“Don’t worry, it was a misunderstanding. We worked it out.”

My eyelids drifted closed.

I tried and failed to pull up Lincoln’s wisdom.

My hands balled into fists.

Catarina reached over, peeled back my fingers, and laced hers through mine.

“Your palm getting twitchy?”