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“So? How do we do that?”
“I know a guy who can take care of it when we get to where we’re going.”
“And where are we going?”
He gives me a grin. “It’s a surprise.”
The waitress comes by and drops off our plates and I look at his mound of fried chicken and waffles. I hate to admit it, but it actually doesn’t look half bad. Not that I’ll tell him that.
“Eat up,” he says. “We have a long road ahead of us today.”
I know he says not to worry, but if the Deviants and the Howlers are looking for that bike, and by extension, looking for us, I can’t help but worry. I’m scared all over again as visions of Hammerhead, back from the dead and looking for revenge against the one who poisoned him, dance through my head.
There’s a piece of me still terrified that the day this is all behind me will never come. That the fear that’s gripping me will never subside.
I let out a breath and silently pray for a day when I won’t be looking over my shoulder all the time. I pray that it comes soon.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
“Chico,” I greet him. “What’s up, man?”
I step forward and pull the man into a tight embrace and clap each other on the back.
“It’s been a while, man,” I say.
“Sí, amigo. How you been, man?”
“Been good, brother. How about you?”
“Lovin’ it out here,” he says.
Chico is tall and heavyset with tawny skin and dark eyes. He’s completely bald and has the tattoo of a Mayan mask on his scalp. He’s got a bushy goatee and has worn the same pair of dark shades since I’ve known him, day or night. He’s a good guy who likes to laugh as much as he likes his tequila and used to run a chop shop out in Vegas. The Kings did a lot of business with him. But he got popped, did a five-year bid, then moved out here for a fresh start. Or at least, fresh ground to start up a new chop shop.
Chico lowers his shades and gives Molly the elevator eyes, a smile crossing his face. Putting his shades back up, he turns to me.
“Dating up and out of your league, I see,” Chico comments.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I reply. “Molly, this is Chico. Chico, Molly.”
He turns to her. “Nice to meet you,” he says. “You know what you’re gettin’ into hangin’ around thispendejo?”
“I’m starting to get an inkling,” she replies teasingly.
He nods. “If you were smart, you’d run for the hills now.”
I laugh and turn to Molly. “Don’t mind Chico. He’s just a bitter, jaded old man.”
He clicks his tongue. “Don’t make me wrong though.”
Molly shrugs. “I figure I’ll hang around a little while longer. Just see what kind of trouble he attracts.”
“The worst kind. He’s like a trouble magnet, this guy.”
“Well, the same can be said about me,” Molly offers. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and cancel each other’s troubles out.”
Chico laughs. “She’s sharp. Smart. And drop-dead gorgeous,” he says. “You are most definitely way out of your league, man.”
“Don’t I know it,” I reply.
