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“I can’t see inside the garage,” she mumbles. “I need to get closer.”
“How many—”
“I don’t know. But two guys got out of my apartment. It doesn’t really matter how many there are. I know who they are, and as soon as I find them…” She nods for me to follow. “Let’s go. Stay right behind me.”
We ease around the corner and pass the garage’s metal liftgate with no resistance from attackers. But neither of us relaxes, waiting for bullets or bombs or… I don’t even know what I’m waiting for. A skateboarding llama could roll by. Honestly, I don’t even think I would blink in surprise.
“You’ve got your phone, right? Get to your car,” she instructs without waiting for my answer. “I’ll jam the gate.”
“What about your car?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “They’ll follow if I drive out of here. They’re not searching for your car.”
Once we hit the middle of the garage, we’re both sure no one is here, so we split ways. She heads into the booth, and I run to my car. The gate is open before I even get my engine started.
I drive up and pull through, stopping on the other side while waiting for her to hop in the passenger seat. But she continues to mess with the computer in the booth. She leans down, and the seconds tick by like hours.
Finally, she rushes out with a small black box in her hand.
The hard drive to the computer system.
“Really?” I ask. “Was that worth risking your life?”
“Yes,” she replies. “It holds a backup to the main cameras. I’ll be able to see everything that happened tonight.”
A gun fires from the right, busting my back windows. Glass rains across my back seat, scattering through the car as it pelts us.
“Go,” she shouts.
I slam my foot into the floorboard, fishtailing through the parking lot. And if I hit someone on the way off the property… Oops. I don’t bother to look back.
Javier curses us as he folds. He’s normally better at poker, but tonight isn’t his night.
It’s mine.
And he hates it.
“You’re getting better at bluffing,” he complains.
I snort. “You’ve been drinking, so you’re sloppy.”
Dean lowers his cards and pulls a blunt from his pocket. “Can we take a ten-minute intermission? I wanna smoke.”
“I want a hit of that,” Reggie says, following him onto my balcony.
“He knows that’s more than weed, right?” Tomas asks.
“I don’t think he cares,” I mutter, stacking the cards. “You guys want another beer?”
“Nah. I’m done for the night,” Javi insists. “I don’t like the way it feels losing to you, so I need to sober up and get my money back.”
I chuckle. “It feels good to me.”
“I’ll take a water,” Tomas mumbles, watching the balcony.
“Go smoke with them,” I tell him.
“I don’t fuck with angel dust,” he remarks, disgusted with the idea.
