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Besides, we need to come up with a concrete plan. If Willow’s dead set on contacting the Marrones, we’ll have to get creative. It’s not like you can’t just walk up to anybody and ask to meet with a member of the cartel. It’s all about connections, of which we havenone.
I pretend not to notice the way Willow constantly checks over her shoulder. She’s on high alert, a hound on watch for any signs of danger. She’s been chewing on the inside of her cheek, which I’ve very quickly learned means she’s deep in thought. It’s one of her many adorable tells, so subtle a quirk, most might miss it. But not me.
I’m sure she has a lot on her mind. I personally haven’t stopped thinking about it, about all the mistakes I made. Joseph Marrones came out of nowhere. Arturo Allegra surprised me as well. If my younger brother hadn’t come barreling in when he did…
It was a misstep on my part, a lapse in attention. It won’t happen again.
“Seriously, Zane. You need to take a break.”
“No offense, darling, but do you even knowhowto drive?”
She shifts in her seat. “I mean, not exactly. My cousin Claire let me play Mario Cart with her once.”
“That’s definitely not the same.”
Willow crosses her arms. “It’s not like my father was ever going to let me. It would make me an even bigger flight risk.”
I keep my eyes on the road, thinking about the time I first let Anna behind the wheel. I’m fairly certain the experience of her flooring it while the gears were still in reverse is the reason I started going gray prematurely. But my experience surprisingly doesn’t deter me from saying, “I can teach you.”
Willow blinks up at me, a smile stretching across her lips. “You mean that?”
“Sure. Once we get you somewhere safe, I’ll teach you all you need to know.”
She casts her grin out the window, the soft glow of city lights visible just beyond the horizon. She points, gesturing to a billboard advertisement for a local bar. “Let’s grab a bite to eat,” Willow says. “That way you can take a break, and we can hit the road right after.”
My stomach rumbles loudly in agreement. Seven hours on the road has worked up my appetite. “Alright, but we have to make it quick. This is a pitstop, not a dinner date.”
She shrugs. “I know. You can take me out to dinner some other time.”
I compartmentalize her words, though I adore her sheepish expression. “You have my word, darling. Once all this shit’s taken care of, I’ll be sure to properly wine and dine you.”
“You’d better. I’ll have you know, though, I’m one hundred percent going to eat everything in sight and probably use my hands.”
I chuckled. “You’ll get no judgment from me.”
The bar in question is…questionable.
The only way I can really describe it is that it’s a hole in the wall. The black and white checkered floors are sticky, every surface smells of spilled beer, and the wallpaper has turned yellow from years of baked-on grease and cigarette smoke.
The clientele is the furthest thing from savory, too. Tattooed bikers, shady men with bleary eyes, and more than a handful of men with unfortunate mugs and aggressive energies about them.
“I’d rather take you to the McDonald’s down the street,” I whisper in her ear.
Willow flashes a mischievous grin. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Care to elaborate? Or am I going to have to play a game of twenty questions?”
“You’ll see soon enough. Help me climb up onto this table.”
“Why?” I ask, even though I’m already extending my hand to support her.
“I know we’re supposed to be laying low,” she says, “but maybe what we really need is to make a scene. How else are the Marrones’ going to know I’m looking for them?”
“I really don’t think this is a good idea, Willow. What if someone alerts Arturo and Esteban?”
“You’ll protect me, right?”
I nod. “Of course.”
