Page 102 of The Art of Dying

“Kitsch,” I answered.

“What’s up, brother?”

“Grant, I need you to listen to me carefully. We’ve had a possible breach. Get into position and wait for my call. Get the pilot out of bed and on the runway. I’m coming to you.”

“Mason?”

“Possibly. Maybe one of his guys. Maybe both. Just be ready.”

“Copy that,” he said, hanging up the phone.

I closed my eyes and sighed.

“Who was that?”

I peered over at her, waiting a beat before explaining. “The team who’s protecting Mack and the kids.”

“Mack and the… are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

I winced. “They’re alive. They’re in hiding. Alecia knows the general vicinity. If Mason has made contact, it won’t take him long to track her down.”

“Kitsch,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“I need you,” I said, putting my hand on hers. “You ready?”

She wiped her cheeks with her free hand and then nodded. We both reached for our weapons, looking at each other before pushing open our doors, both keeping low as we crept across the dark street to Alecia’s house. She’d remodeled the exterior, new windows and paint. All from money paid to Badger to keep her happy and talking.

We snuck around to the back, checking for cameras. Vazquez checked the doorknob and, as expected, it was locked. She took a step back, holding her gun in front of her, and I rammed my foot into the door near the deadbolt. After a second time, the door flew open, splinters flying.

Vaz took point, clearing each room until we reached the bedroom. She opened the door and I barged in, catching Alecia trying to hide in the closet while Drew pulled his weapon.

Alecia cowered at first, but once she recognized me and then Vazquez, her eyes widened. “Kitsch, what the hell are you doing?”

“Did you tell Drew about Mack?”

She was confused at first and then swallowed, looking over to her boyfriend. “Drew, lower your gun.”

“Don’t tell them shit, Al,” he said, staring at me over the barrel of his gun.

“Everyone just… Breathe!” Alecia yelled, holding up her hands, palms out. She took a step forward.

“Stay where you are, Alecia,” I said. She stopped. “Answer the question.”

“I…” she began, looking to Drew. “Of course I told him, but he’s one of the good guys, Kitsch.”

I clenched my teeth, feeling my jaw tense under the skin. “Did you tell him everything?”

She shook her head quickly. “I told him everything you told me. That she’s alive, the kids are alive, and they’re in Oklahoma.”

“God dammit, Al,” Drew snarled.

I nodded to Drew. “Where’s Mason?”

Alecia looked to Drew, confused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he yelled. “Put down your fucking weapons!”

“Is he here or already on his way to Oklahoma?” I asked, firm but calm.

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