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SEVEN, The sign to Terry that the call was successful. Madison wasn’t alone.
SIX, Terry replied he was prepared at the front door.
FIVE, I texted Terry when the bathroom light flickered to life and Madison appeared in the window with a black eye that was swollen and a gnarly looking split on her bottom lip. She clutched her side as she reached up on her toes to open the window a little further. “Ms. Ashby?”
I quirked a brow and smiled. “So now I’m Ms. Ashby? Not Kat or Rich Girl?”
She rolled her eyes and winced in pain.
“Trying to be cool since you’re being so helpful, savin’ my life and all.”
Her voice held the appropriate amount of bravado but the flash of fear in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder reminded me that she was just a kid.
“I need a hand,” she said reluctantly, embarrassment heavy in her tone.
It was a risk but I shoved the gun back in the holster and stepped in close to the window, hooking my arms under her pits to give her a good pull out the window. We both fell to the ground with a grunt.
“You all right?”
Madison nodded. “Alive.”
FOUR, I messaged Terry and his message came seconds later.
THREE, My cue to wait, which I did, impatiently.
Though not as much as Madison. “Why are we just standing around? They’ll notice I’m gone in about ten seconds,” she grumbled.
TWO, I confirmed we were waiting by the dumpster.
“It’s called a plan,” I told her and wrapped an arm around Madison so she could lean on me while we waited for Terry.
ONE, One second later, he flashed the lights.
“Come on.”
I held her close and practically dragged her toward the car, shoving her in the back with a quiet slam of the door.
“That was fun!” I flashed a smile at Terry and when he smiled back, I had to resist the urge to lean forward and press my lips to his.
It wasn’t the right moment.
It would never be.
Terry turned the car around toward the street and just as we passed the front of the building, the door opened.
“Wait,” I called out as my eyes tried to focus on the grey-haired man who’d stepped out, that fucking beard etched in my mind.
“Holy fucking shit,” I muttered and reached blindly for my phone to snap a photo at the exact moment the woman, Donna McLaughlin, stepped out beside him.
“Okay, go.” Immediately I sent the photo to Ma.
It was a foolish move, I realized after the fact, designed to bring more heat on the family, especially from the Feds who’d taken up residence in Glitz for the past few months. No matter what she did, I knew Sadie would want to know. Hell, she needed to know.
“Uh, Kat?”
Madison’s shaky tone alarmed me and I turned to her. “What’s up?”
“Not that I’m not grateful, ‘cause I am. Totally. But I uh need…” Her eyes fluttered shut and that was when I noticed the place she’d been holding was bleeding.
“Shit! Terry she’s hurt.” I leaned forward between the front seats and lifted the same ratty t-shirt she’d been wearing when she showed up at the hotel. A slice ran about four inches across her abdomen but the blood was black and dried, and it smelled. “She’s been stabbed.”
“Fuck.” That one word from Terry’s mouth held a wealth of emotions as he slammed on the gas and put as much distance between us and Mueller as he could.
Without thinking, I climbed between the seats and held Madison’s head in my lap, stroking her damp, dirty hair. “You’ll be all right,” I whispered, hoping that was the truth.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Terry
“This room is too much,” I grumbled from my spot leaning against the rail of the balcony because what else would Kat Ashby find for us, but a luxury suite in the middle of fucking nowhere.
“Nonsense,” Kat said with casual ease. “We need someplace that invested in security, cameras and armed guards. More importantly, someplace that has concierge medical services.” Her tone changed when she was reminded of the real reason for our detour.
“How is she?”
Kat shrugged and swirled the amber liquid in her glass before she handed the other glass to me and stretched out in a lounge chair.
“The wound is infected, but he stitched her up and gave her antibiotics. Madison is going to be fine,” she said with a laugh. “Told me she didn’t need to die in luxury. I told her tough because she wasn’t going to die today.”
That quick flash of worry in her blue eyes told me she wasn’t as sure as she sounded.
“You’re picking up quite a few strays lately,” I told her and took the plush chair beside her. The desert stretched out before us, brightly lit and full of life.
“First Bonnie and now Madison. Better be careful or you might lose that barracuda card you love so much.”
