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I can’t believe Keys fucked up this bad. Well, considering the state of Neil’s hair when they met up with us in the hall, I can kind of believe it. He was distracted.
When I meet back up with my guys, I’ll have to give Keys a piece of my mind.
A second blast, much closer than the first one, blows out the wall—and the fire escape—with me on it. I slam into the opposite wall of the alley and bounce off a Dumpster lid on my way to the ground, rolling as I land. My shoulder screams at me, but I don’t have time to check it out. I’ve got to get clear of the area before more bombs go off.
Shouts and footsteps echo down the alley over the sound of falling debris and secondary explosions. Something inside the Burrow got lit up by the second blast, and it caused a mini-chain reaction. Probably the clunky old propane heater we kept in the dorm area for those days when the main heating system broke down. Or the propane camp grill Kendrick used to cook dinner.
Next time, we probably shouldn’t keep so much flammable stuff inside. I make a mental note to bring this up with Kendrick when we meet back up.
I grab my bat and scurry behind the Dumpster to gain both cover and concealment. If the guys who blew us up can’t see me, they can’t shoot me. Theoretically, anyway. Switching the bat to my left hand, I pull out my gun with my right and take aim at the space just past the side of the Dumpster. The first person who walks by is gonna get a nasty wakeup call in the form of a hollow point.
Bunny’s not playing nice anymore.
The shiny black wingtip appears before the Viper’s face does. His face disappears just as quickly as it showed up as I squeeze the trigger at just the right moment. More shouts and running from down the alley, and I inch further behind the big, metal bin. Getting down on my knees, I take a quick peek at the wheels of the monstrous trash receptacle. All unlocked. Cool. I reposition myself with my back to the wall, my butt on the ground, and my feet planted square on the side of the Dumpster. Then, I wait.
The sounds of pursuit draw closer, and as soon as the shadows of my enemies line up with my improvised weapon, I push off as hard as I can.
Jesus H. Christ, someone must’ve greased the wheels on that thing! It flies into the opposite wall, pinning four Vipers between it and the brick. I jump to my feet and pick them off one by one, then take off running in the opposite direction.
Black SUVs line the streets outside the Burrow, with gunmen in suits crouching behind open car doors, aiming for my hiding spot. The smoke from all the blasting gives me some decent cover, but they’ll spot me soon enough. Pink and blue braids might look cool, but they draw plenty of unwanted attention at a time like this.
My luck takes a turn for the better when police sirens start wailing down the street. The Vipers all turn to look for the oncoming cops, and I slip down a different alley, away from their view, and book it as fast as my legs will take me.
I hope the guys all made it out okay. I trust Kendrick and Doc’s street instincts, but poor Neil doesn’t know what to do in this situation, and Keys will just panic.
No time to dwell on that now. Gotta keep running.
It’s not like we don’t have backup plans. Places to meet if something goes down, other hideouts to lie low in. The problem is our latest backup plans are months old and don’t take Neil into consideration. Things have been so hectic that it just never came up. The others will have to think on their feet to account for him in their getaway.
Me? I head for the one place no one will ever look for me. No one except Kendrick even knows to associate me with that place, and I doubt he’d think I would go there first.
Sun Yi Kincaid, rich widow and shitty-ass mom, is about to get a visit from her kid for the first time in a decade.
***
My palms sweat and my heart races as I climb the trellis up to my old room … the one I left Mark Kincaid’s body in when Kendrick saved me.
There’s still a slight chance Sun Yi could turn me in when she sees me. I didn’t leave on the greatest of terms. Cutting off her husband’s dick and slitting his throat after beaning him with a baseball bat aren’t the best ways to endear yourself to your estranged mother, though from what I hear, the life insurance settlement worked out in her favor. She got everything in the will—like Mark would have left me jack shit, anyway—as well as a cool ten mil from the policy. It kind of startles me that she’s stayed in the same house this whole time, but then again, Sun Yi was raised to think that women can’t do things on their own. I’m honestly more surprised she didn’t remarry again just to have a man around.
I never knew my real dad. He died in a car accident when I was a toddler, and Mark Kincaid scooped Sun Yi up and ran with it. He legally adopted me, and to the outside world, things were hunky-dory in the Kincaid household.
No one knew what he was doing to me except Sun Yi, and she didn’t lift a finger to stop it.
The window creaks when I open it, and a bright light blinds me as I climb over the sill. There, by the light switch, stands Sun Yi. She’s got a butcher knife in one hand and a rolling pin in the other.
I guess now I see the resemblance.
“You don’t belong here,” she says, her voice cold and emotionless.
Rather than back off or jump out the window, I just dust myself off and shrug. “I never did, did I, Sun Yi?”
She somehow manages to wag a finger at me while keeping her grip on both weapons. “You have no honor. You shouldn’t call your mother by her given name. I can’t believe I raised you to have such disrespect.”
I raise a brow and jerk my chin at the slight brown stain left in the yellowing carpet. The room has been redecorated as a generic guest room, but there’s no mistaking that stain. I even recognize the shape of it. “Is it honorable to let your husband use and abuse your only child? Is that respectful?”
Sun Yi starts to tremble, and she raises the butcher knife, pointing the tip at me. “You killed him!” Tears well up in her eyes, and she takes a step forward. “You killed the only man who ever loved me, and then you spread filthy lies about him!”
I might’ve posted an anonymous vlog to a local Summer City news station after news of Mark’s death hit the airwaves. I wore a mask and used an app to disguise my voice, but I guess Sun Yi figured it out. All well and good, I suppose. I’d rather she hates me for spilling the beans on the dirty family secret than hate me for dressing like a hussy or dyeing my hair. Although, it’s entirely possible she hates me for those things, too.
