levels later, for now, let’s get the key back in that lockbox and head out.”
“Sure.” Davis pushed the door open, and a bullet slug slammed into the metal doorjamb beside his head. He jumped back and pulled the door shut, turning the lock.
“We’re fucked,” Davis growled.
“Do you think they have the place surrounded?”
“If it’s the cops then yes, other people, no.”
Ryan led him to the front of the store, the hand on Davis’s back felt reassuring. The more time he spent with this man, the more dependent he became on him.
“The cops wouldn’t have shot first. They would have made demands and only fired after we stepped outside. Whoever targeted me yesterday, tracked me here.” He shook his head, trying to figure out how they knew he was here. “Maybe the dude put a GPS tracker in my bag, or the person waited and the noise we’d made outside drew his attention.” No matter how Davis sliced it, they were screwed.
In the distance, he heard the wail of a siren. As it drew closer, his panic increased. He wasn’t going to freak-out. He’d done this too many times to lose it. People shot at him. It sucked, but he could get through this. No way would the person expect them to exit out the front door.
“We have to make a break for it. The cops will be here in a few,” Ryan said.
“You could stay, tell them I set you up, kidnapped you, forced you to do this.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not abandoning you right now.”
“We’re under fire. We could die.”
“Not the first time I’ve been shot at. Let’s roll.”
Davis huffed out a breath and twisted the lock on the door then pushed it open, ducking out of the restaurant with Ryan right behind him. He didn’t wait to see if the door closed, or if anyone else was around. He moved fast up the sidewalk, turning at the next street. More cars were out, and a few pedestrians were walking by, the city was waking up, allowing them to start to blend in.
“Do you think the shooter is following us?” Ryan asked.
“No clue. He doesn’t know I have help. He probably thinks I’m alone.” They crossed a street then turned right before hooking a left. “Fuck, we need to get out of the open.”
“It’s a little after four, the subway isn’t running yet.”
“Where are we going to go?” Davis glanced to Ryan, hoping the man had a plan, because at the moment, he was drawing a blank.
Chapter Eleven
Roger shifted in the seat and moaned. He hated sleeping in a car. His muscles and joints always loathed him afterward. Something had brought him out of the depths of sleep, but he wasn’t sure what. Blinking into the dim streetlights, he tried to make out what was happening. It was a miracle that no cops had stopped by to roust them. Two guys sleeping in a car didn’t usually go unnoticed on city streets, but he guessed they’d gotten lucky.
Mike moved beside him, his arms spreading as he stretched, almost hitting Roger’s face.
“Morning,” Roger grumbled.
“Fuck, I hate sleeping like this.”
“We need coffee,” Roger said.
“Damn straight. I want to freshen up. What time is it?”
“Too damn early.” Roger glanced at his phone, groaning. “Four, it’s four in the fucking morning. Seriously, I need a bath and a warm bed.”
“And Grant?”
“Fuck, don’t even go there. You got anybody you’re sleeping with?”
“No, I had some fun while I was on my vacation, but most of the time I spent at the ranch taking care of the livestock.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You didn’t venture far.”
“Didn’t want to. Everything I need is at the ranch, and I don’t want a relationship, ever.”
Roger sat up straighter and rested his hands on the steering wheel, trying to stretch his back. “Something’s going down.”
“How can you tell?”
“Something woke me. Not sure what, but I don’t like it.”
Mike leaned forward just as a loud pop blasted to the left.
“Oh shit. That sounded like
“Sure.” Davis pushed the door open, and a bullet slug slammed into the metal doorjamb beside his head. He jumped back and pulled the door shut, turning the lock.
“We’re fucked,” Davis growled.
“Do you think they have the place surrounded?”
“If it’s the cops then yes, other people, no.”
Ryan led him to the front of the store, the hand on Davis’s back felt reassuring. The more time he spent with this man, the more dependent he became on him.
“The cops wouldn’t have shot first. They would have made demands and only fired after we stepped outside. Whoever targeted me yesterday, tracked me here.” He shook his head, trying to figure out how they knew he was here. “Maybe the dude put a GPS tracker in my bag, or the person waited and the noise we’d made outside drew his attention.” No matter how Davis sliced it, they were screwed.
In the distance, he heard the wail of a siren. As it drew closer, his panic increased. He wasn’t going to freak-out. He’d done this too many times to lose it. People shot at him. It sucked, but he could get through this. No way would the person expect them to exit out the front door.
“We have to make a break for it. The cops will be here in a few,” Ryan said.
“You could stay, tell them I set you up, kidnapped you, forced you to do this.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not abandoning you right now.”
“We’re under fire. We could die.”
“Not the first time I’ve been shot at. Let’s roll.”
Davis huffed out a breath and twisted the lock on the door then pushed it open, ducking out of the restaurant with Ryan right behind him. He didn’t wait to see if the door closed, or if anyone else was around. He moved fast up the sidewalk, turning at the next street. More cars were out, and a few pedestrians were walking by, the city was waking up, allowing them to start to blend in.
“Do you think the shooter is following us?” Ryan asked.
“No clue. He doesn’t know I have help. He probably thinks I’m alone.” They crossed a street then turned right before hooking a left. “Fuck, we need to get out of the open.”
“It’s a little after four, the subway isn’t running yet.”
“Where are we going to go?” Davis glanced to Ryan, hoping the man had a plan, because at the moment, he was drawing a blank.
Chapter Eleven
Roger shifted in the seat and moaned. He hated sleeping in a car. His muscles and joints always loathed him afterward. Something had brought him out of the depths of sleep, but he wasn’t sure what. Blinking into the dim streetlights, he tried to make out what was happening. It was a miracle that no cops had stopped by to roust them. Two guys sleeping in a car didn’t usually go unnoticed on city streets, but he guessed they’d gotten lucky.
Mike moved beside him, his arms spreading as he stretched, almost hitting Roger’s face.
“Morning,” Roger grumbled.
“Fuck, I hate sleeping like this.”
“We need coffee,” Roger said.
“Damn straight. I want to freshen up. What time is it?”
“Too damn early.” Roger glanced at his phone, groaning. “Four, it’s four in the fucking morning. Seriously, I need a bath and a warm bed.”
“And Grant?”
“Fuck, don’t even go there. You got anybody you’re sleeping with?”
“No, I had some fun while I was on my vacation, but most of the time I spent at the ranch taking care of the livestock.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You didn’t venture far.”
“Didn’t want to. Everything I need is at the ranch, and I don’t want a relationship, ever.”
Roger sat up straighter and rested his hands on the steering wheel, trying to stretch his back. “Something’s going down.”
“How can you tell?”
“Something woke me. Not sure what, but I don’t like it.”
Mike leaned forward just as a loud pop blasted to the left.
“Oh shit. That sounded like
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