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Asher stared at him. “Who sent you?”
“The same man who had me meet you, show you this room.” He shrugged. “No name. Never a name. Just the number four.”
Asher smiled and took the key.
The number four...
Who the hell was the number four?
“Thank you,” Asher said in English, then again in Arabic. “We didn’t mean to cause trouble. We’ll leave tonight.”
“No, now. He said you leavenow.” The man looked at his watch. “Prayer in five minutes. You leave then.”
Asher’s eyes flickered to Harry’s before he turned back to the kind man and gave a nod. “Understood. Thank you.”
The man backed out of the small room, sparing Harry only a brief glance before he was gone.
And Asher was already repacking his duffle bag. “We leave now.”
Harry frowned. “So this... four person says we leave, and we just do whatever he says?”
Asher slid a pistol into the back of his jeans. “Yes. Exactly like that.”
“Who is Four?”
Asher pulled up the zip on his duffle. “Pack your shit, Harry. Or I leave without you. When he says I move, I fucking move. It’s how I stay alive. Now move.”
Harry tucked Asher’s pistol into his waistband and pulled his coat on to conceal it. He grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and met Asher’s hard glare with his own. It took all of three seconds. “Done.”
Asher kept an eye on his watch and, when it was time, put one hand on the door. “Don’t shoot unless we’re shot at first.”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
Asher raised one eyebrow.
The fuck?
Harry would have been pissed if that hadn’t stung. And why did it sting? What the fuck was that emotion?
It’s called indignation and pride, Harry. Because you care what he thinks about you.
Before Harry could reply, to Asher or to himself, Asher huffed and shook his head. “No. I don’t. I think you’re an idiot for turning me down, for not fucking me like I wanted. For that, you’re an idiot. But not anything else.”
If only Asher knew how thin Harry’s self-control was.
Asher made a thoughtful face. “Actually, the dick sucking was pretty good.”
Harry tapped his watch. “Shut the fuck up and get out the door.”
Five streets over, two streets up was the instructions given, and in this rabbit warren of winding, narrow alleys it was so easy to get turned around and lost. Harry was beginning to think they’d taken a wrong turn, wondering how long it should take, wondering if they were running into a trap.
Wondering if this would be his last day.
Wondering if being on the run with Asher was how he wanted it all to end.
It really pissed Harry off that he enjoyed Asher’s company. As much as he annoyed him, as much as Asher infuriated him, Harry absolutely hated that he liked him.
The sound of laughter somewhere close by startled Harry. The silence of afternoon prayer was over, and it was perfect timing too. They came to a street that cars could actually drive on, not just cobblestone walkways, and in the lines of cars parked along one side, sure enough, there was a blue sedan.
