I consider snapping a photo of Henry and Amy, but then I remember what Carter said about blowing our cover. I turn the camera to the window, careful not to stick it out too far, so as not to let the wind tear it from my hands and toss it to the dusty road. I doubt Carter would stop to let me retrieve it, although even if he did, it would surely be ruined.
I wait for the van to slow before taking a few shots of the short, wide trees that lace the side of the road, providing shade for the people walking under them. The landscape is wide and expansive, with only a few buildings here and there as we approach a small city at the edge of the desert. That city is the only refuge for many miles, and it’s also where Bheka’s warehouses are.
My memories of the horrors I experienced here are still fresh, only having happened a few weeks ago, but they become even more vibrant as the city comes into view. My father, the Dormer Mafia, and I spent the day there before heading out into the desert, picking through small shops and trying foods we’ve never had before. It was lovely, and I can practically taste the tart sweetness of the marula fruit I bought from one of the shops as we drive toward the city.
I feel connected to this place, but there’s also bad energy flowing through the wind here. There’s unfinished business awaiting me, like a test that must be taken so that I can graduate from the misery I experienced and start to live my life in peace again. I have Carter, at least for now, and that makes me all the more eager to get this through with. It’s not just about revenge or saving the Dormer-Calandro Mafia union for me, but also closure.
My mouth is dry from the heat, and I pull a bottle of water from my bag as I put my camera away. I’d hate to suffer from dehydration in this place again. I’m determined to drink so much that I piss clear the rest of the week.
“It looks as though we’ve made it,” Carter announces as we pass the scratched-up entry sign to the city.
I take a sip of water, savoring the smooth mouthfeel before swallowing. “Don’t jinx us,” I reply.
Henry and Amy are still silent in the rear, eyeballing each other as I would like to do to Carter. But he’s too serious now for fun and games, and it isn’t appropriate for me to suggest we find some privacy after how many times he came inside of me last night. I bet he’s tired, but I’m certainly not. I’m not sure I could ever get enough of him.
“I’m assuming we’re going to get some lunch before we hit the warehouse,” Amy says, rubbing her hands together. She’s always quite eager to eat, which I find funny, given her slim figure. I swear, it’s always the skinny ones who never stop eating.
“Yeah, we still have to wait for the rest of our men to arrive before we put any plans into action. Plus, I still haven’t gotten solid confirmation on the location of the warehouse we want to hit,” Carter explains.
“I hope you didn’t ask Todd for directions,” I joke.
Carter chuckles, having cooled down from his frustration during the police chase earlier. “No, and I won’t be doing business with him again. Can you believe he sold me this pile of junk?”
“I find it harder to believe you agreed to buy it,” I reply. “But wouldn’t he know better than to sell something like this to a mafia boss?”
“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? I didn’t tell him I was with the mafia,” Carter explains.
“Maybe you should’ve.”
“And blow our cover? No way.”
“Good point,” I reply, having run out of things to say about this horrid van. It’s not Carter’s fault that it sucks, but I’d like to get out of it as soon as possible and get to creeping around the city for a second time. There are some corners of it that I didn’t get to check out my first time around.
“Um, boss. I think you might want to speed things up a little,” Henry says, his voice quivering with nervous excitement.
“Why?” Carter asks, turning his head at the same time I do to look behind us.
Henry pulls his gun from his waistband once again, a smug grimace on his face as Carter and I look past him through the back window at the police cars barreling down the street toward us.
“Shit,” Carter exclaims.
“Shit is right,” I say, nodding my head and going for my gun.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Carter
I really wish we didn’t have to deal with this again. It’s one thing to have to run from the police at the hotel, but it’s another entirely for them to follow us all the way to the edge of the desert. They must really be eager to catch us, but I can’t imagine why. I still haven’t figured out who told them about Honey.
“We’re not going to be able to outrun them in this fucking van,” I growl, pulling around a corner and scanning the road for someone to carjack. I hate having to get civilians involved in my business, but I really need a decent car right about now, and anything is better than this junkyard van.
I spot a red convertible sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the plain and ordinary used cars occupied by most of the people in the city. I can’t feel too bad about stealing a car like that. It’s been a while since I’ve had a decent joyride, as I’ve been trying to keep a low profile.
Not anymore.
“Don’t shoot anyone, but we’re going to jack that convertible,” I warn as I pull into the adjacent lane and roll up to it at the stoplight.
“Much better,” Honey says, smiling at
