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“Sounds like an easy fix that’ll be solved by a quick pitstop.”
“What happened to having a nice, peaceful Tuesday with the baby? Weren’t we talking about ordering Peruvian for lunch?”
“Peruvian’s on hold. Shut the fuck up and follow.”
* * *
Stitches hasn’t stopped groaning since we left the house. This afternoon I’m watching Dominic, which means I’ve brought him with us for our trip into the city.
My boy sits obediently strapped into his carseat. He plays with his light-up keyring and giggles every time one of the keys glows a new color.
“This has got to be a record,” Stitches says from the front seat. “The number of times we’ve hacked Ernest Adams and/or broken into his private property.”
“This is only the second time.”
His glasses slip low on his nose as glances at me, dripping with skepticism. “Psycho, let’s be real for a moment. There was the time we broke into his campaign office.”
“I forgot about that.”
“How about the time you illegally posed as Jonathan Crotone to get into his private luncheon at the Neptune club?”
My hand comes up and scrubs my chin in thought. My other hand is on the steering wheel as we navigate Northam city traffic. Maybe Stitches has a point—we have crossed some boundaries over the years.
I’ve infiltrated Ernest Adams’s private spaces and events many times over. I’ve hacked his private devices too. But it’s not as if it wasn’t deserved each time. I have no regrets, and I’ll continue to do what I must to keep him in line.
“Who’re these asses riding you? You see this right now?” Stitches asks, looking into the side mirror.
Three unmarked SUVs are crowding us in. The one tailgating me and two others that have appeared on our sides.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and my murderous rage takes over me. It reflects on my face and every movement I make. Whoever these bastards are will come to regret having the audacity to attempt such a grimy intimidation tactic—andwith my boy in the car.
What enemy of mine is it this time?
This is exactly why I’ve been keeping Delphine and Dominic out of the city. The moment I chance it, somebody somewhere thinks they can fucking cause trouble.
The instant the light turns green, I’m hitting the gas. My sleek Audi shoots forward and slides between lanes as I play hard to get.
Larger, bulkier SUVs can’t keep up. Their tires screech and one clips another car as they try to shoehorn themselves into spaces where they can’t fit.
In the back, Dominic erupts into an alarmed wail. His tiny brown face scrunches up as my poor boy lets me know he’s scared.
“Shit,” I swear under my breath. “It’s okay, Dom. Papa’s gonna make it better. I’ll give you extra candy.”
“I’m calling up the guys to send reinforcements. They’ll be here in five.”
“Hold these assholes off for five minutes. I can do that,” I grit out, my adrenaline pumping. I jerk the wheel and make a sharp turn onto a different street last minute. It’s a risk that has other cars honking at me and Dominic releasing more panicked cries.
The sound is torture to my ears.
The last thing I want to do is frighten my boy. He should be happy and carefree playing with his light-up keys, not being chased down by maniacs.
“Fabio says somebody just tried to accost Delphine at the salon,” Stitches says, covering his phone with his hand to speak to me for a moment. “They’ve got her away from the POS and are enroute to your house. Everybody else is coming from the compound.”
“Have some of them track us down and handle these dipshits chasing us. Then have the rest show up to the club. We’re about to slaughter some motherfuckers.”
Stitches nods profusely as he explains my off-the-cuff plan.
I’m still bobbing and weaving through city traffic, working the wheel as best as I can to keep a lead on these people.
