Page 49 of Blood & Kisses

“You haven’t done the job yet,” he reminds me. “And I might be taking the shot anyway, so you haven’t succeeded yet.”

“I don’t care who kills him. As long as the job is done,” I say honestly. “And that’s the truth.”

His hand finds my thigh, and I smile as a coil of warmth spirals through my chest and stomach, making me feel loved and wanted. “We’ll see. I’ll guide you the entire time and signal when you need to take the shot. We might have a window of a few seconds, so if you don’t think you can take the shot, you must tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” I sigh, noticing the rifles in jackets lying on the back seat, which raises a question I haven’t received an explanation for. “Who sends messages to Z when there’s a job to do?”

“Me,” he replies, pointing to the glove compartment to indicate where he normally keeps it. “I had a special phone for that purpose only.”

“So, how did Blackadder get your phone to send a message to Zara?’ I ask, slightly paranoid, because it just doesn’t make sense.

“Blackadder doesn’t do the menial tasks; he hires someone to do them. And that phone was stolen a couple of nights ago when someone broke into my truck while it was parked outside my apartment,” he explains. “They smashed the window, and honestly, I thought it was random until I saw the phone missing. I’ve gotten into the habit of checking my vehicle for trackers as well. I check your little speedster often, too, without your knowledge. That is one of the reasons Gabe decided to be upfront with you as we were getting too many close calls, and obviously, with us associating with you, Blackadder’s lackeys were moving in closer on us.”

“Oh?” my heart sinks. “So, Blackadder knows about you. I thought you were running under the radar undetected?”

“We were, but we think that changed when you moved in with Gabe, so they looked a little closer at who we are and started following us.” He shrugs nonchalantly like it’s no big deal, which I find perplexing. The thief takes everything in his stride, laidback and uninterested in worrying about a single thing because what is the point in worrying.

“So, I led Blackadder to you in a way?” Guilt stirs in my gut as I speak, and I automatically glance behind us to see if anyone is following.

“We’re not being followed,” he confirms. “I’ve been watching since I left my place. And yes, you did lead Blackadder to us, which is part of the plan.”

“Oh?” I exclaim. “It was a plan.”

“Yeah, well, on the one hand, we needed to protect you from them, and on the other hand, we knew Blackadder’s curiosity would pique when you moved in with a well-known sex offenders’ detective,” he answers, turning off the main road onto a dirt track. “One of our vehicle swaps is behind that red barn.”

He parks his truck behind the barn, where a red sedan sits waiting. We take everything out of his truck and pile it into the red sedan, and then we’re on the road again.

“I’m just drinking all of this in,” I crow. “One oh One on how to be a criminal.”

“Wrong,” he corrects me. “It’s one oh one on how to be an effective criminal that doesn’t get caught.”

“Right. As long as all evidence leads back to Blackadder, then who cares, right?” I say, breathing over a brick of nerves arising during this conversation.

“We’ll always have your back, Rae,” he says assuredly as his hand finds my thigh again.

“But I didn’t know…” I check myself. Of course, I knew. I knew all along. “Actually, I did know. I did know I was being followed, especially after I was jumped in the parking garage and then when my apartment was broken into. There have been several times when someone came to my door but didn’t knock, and then there was a guy attacking women in my building, but I don’t know if that has anything to do with Blackadder. There were also times where I felt like I was being followed while driving places, but I put it down to paranoia.”

“Weeell…” he drags the word out and winks at me, and I know he’s about to divulge something spicy. “Some of those times you were being followed could’ve been us checking up on ya.”

“Truth’s coming out now, ain’t it. Sunshine is like disinfectant on a wound,” I dish out, unbothered by his confession.

He grins and switches the sound system on. An old country tune is playing—a man singing about Folsom Prison.

“Johnny Cash,” Blake informs me. “Way before our time, but always timeless.”

“Interesting coincidence,” I snicker lightheartedly, even though it does disturb me slightly. “We’re about to commit the most serious of crimes, and what song happens to be playing on the radio…”

“Reading into every little thing will only make you crazy, baby,” he chimes, patting my thigh to comfort me.

25

After stopping off again to change vehicles for the second time, we’re in a silver station wagon with two surfboards fixed to the roof, and my nerves wound up tightly as we drive closer to our destination. This is a small beach town on the coast and on the way to my childhood home and where my parents still live. Many of the houses in this town are worth well over a million dollars, including the ones without direct views of the Pacific Ocean.

“I’m going to drive past the house casually. I’ll point out the house several yards away, but when we pass directly by, I want you to gaze out at the ocean, so if any of the neighbors see us, they’ll assume we’re heading to the beach. Got it, Rae?”

“Got it,” I reply, inhaling to ease my anxiety. I was less nervous when I worked alone because I didn’t know what to expect and was walking into the murder of Lyons blind.

“I have ski masks in the bag in the back seat, but I’ll tell you when to put one on. First, we’re acting normally, like a couple going down to the beach to surf. Pay the house no attention,” he explains smoothly as he turns down a road lined with modern houses with large front windows looking out onto the ocean.

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