Great. Now I’ll have to put up with Cord being an asshole for hours.
“You call if you need a hand, bud.” The last part is obviously not for me.
“Nah, they’re punks,” Frank adds, dismissing the offer. “Shouldn’t need more than a taser.”
“Great. Don’t want Ms. Bonnie Boo-hooin’ if they take anything.”
The first inklings of exasperation crop up. In my defense, I’ve spent three days listening to his bullshit about Bonnie. He’s been playing up her name way past the joke dying. It started with Busty then Busty’s got back. Frank had to tell him her name’s pronounced boo-stows. So he started on Bonnie Boo, needing a boo, and now he graduated to Busty’s got boo-ty. Not that the guy’s wrong—on any account. Just the sight of the woman will remind any man he’s alive.
Though if he figures out she goes by Bunny and starts on that, I’m going to kill him.
A light stretches out along the ground like another pothole in the narrow parking lot’s buckling asphalt. Dumb and dumber must have gotten through the door.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I have half a mind to ignore it, but Frank may want to go offline. Reaching for it, I pull the screen around to see who’s on the line. Kassy, the IT and security specialist. Frowning, I hit the home button.
“You all right?” she asks, getting straight to the point.
“Yeah.” I check the area again, in case I missed something. “Why?”
“Montoya got one of his vibes, and—”
“Oh-oh,” Frank exaggerates the syllables. What the hell is going on now? “We got a problem,” he confirms.
Gathering patience, I force a question out between clenched teeth. “What?”
“She’s back.” Grabbing the binoculars, I focus on the car coming in at the end of the street. Sure enough, the electric-blue Mini Cooper has a damn Uber sticker on the windshield.
It’s times like this where Montoya disturbs my goddamn calm. How the hell can Dante’s business partner be ahead of us when he’s on the ranch a couple hundred miles away?
“I have movement,” Frank announces. “They left someone in the car. And they’re on the phone, likely giving a heads-up.”
The Uber stops in front of the café, and the driver fully turns in his seat. The door opens and a pair of white, high-heeled sandals pops out above the door, followed by Miss Bonnie herself. White ruffled top, little peach shorts that hug her ass, and some lime-green, foam sandals they use for pedicures.
Goddammit.
The fucking driver takes his time pulling away, checking his mirrors for one last look at Miss Bustos’s assets. Fuck if I don’t want to just go push the car down the street on my own.
“What’s wrong?” Kassy whispers.
“Two guys in the building, and she’s back early.”
“Oh damn. Why is she early?” Her nails do a rapid-fire tap across the keyboard then come to a sudden stop. “Baka! Forgot, there’s no security system. I’m blind,” she finishes, sounding helpless. Kassy did the research on Bonnie. Every Sunday she takes an Uber to her mom’s house, coming home after ten o’clock. For whatever reason, she chooses today to break routine.
“So what are we doing?” Frank drops a tangled mess on my shoulders.
I don’t break protocol—ever. It’s kept me alive, and from being discovered, for all these years.
A shadow of unease settles over me, driving me to check on Miss Bonnie. She’s Iris’s best friend, practically a sister. And Iris, one of the few people I give a damn about, lost her mother and still has to deal with her missing father. Not sure how she’ll take losing someone else, especially when I could prevent it.
“No…not on my watch!” Instinct kicks in as I spring up, turn on my heel, and fly down the stairs and jump across to the next landing.
“Got your back.” Frank’s voice comes in low and meaningful. I know I can count on him to watch what he says around Cord.
I’m breaking cover, if this goes wrong, neither of them can be involved. I jam the earbud in as I bust out the door and streak across the street. “May need you.”
“Got ya,” Kassy gives a curt acknowledgment as a disgruntled cat complains in the background.
With one hand, I grip the top bar and kick off of the body of the fence. Redirecting my momentum, I’m up in the air, hurdling the fence. Gravel. Unexpected but I stick the landing and I’m clear. Drizzle starts to fall—perfect, what else can go wrong? Hopefully, with the rain, anyone in the area will decide to stay in tonight. If not, Frank’s gonna have to step up for as long as he can.
“Maybe they’ll hear her and run off,” Kassy suggests hopefully.
I dash along the side of the building, through the parking area, but somehow I know that isn’t gonna happen. The closer I get, the more my gut is screaming at me that things are gonna go sideways.
I sidle along the edge of the kitchen, blending into the darkness, and peer into the corner of the window. The jerk-offs are across the building, in the dining area, facing me. Bonnie’s in the kitchen, frozen in place as skinny raises a Beretta nine mil, by the looks of it. “Never killed anyone before.” He grins and looks Bunny over as if he’s got a prize coming.
“Call maintenance,” I mutter to Kassy. “I’m going to work.”
Want more? Read Saving Bonnie
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About the Author
Sahara Roberts spends her days dealing with international trade issues (the legal kind) and her evenings writing romance. She is currently working on the 2nd book of the Blood Ties series.
Sahara lives in South Texas with her husband, who she lovingly refers to as Brat, and three furry overlords. She enjoys cooking, baking, and cake decorating, but she would certainly prefer to have someone else do the dishes.
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Stealing Iris: A Dark Mafia Romance (Blood Ties Book 1) Page 16
