Sawyer
Zelda might be taking a big risk, but I’m taking a bigger one.
Domino does not approve of ride-alongs.
I’ve never taken anyone on a job before. I’ve never wanted to. But even if I did, I wouldn’t be foolish enough to think that he’d be fine with it.
For one thing, people with no experience in what I’m about to do are bound to get themselves in trouble if anything goes down.
Most of the time, nothing happens—not to me, anyway. But I’ve had a couple runners, a couple of interruptions, and it’s best if there’s not another person waiting around outside, no one to get in the way.
And it’s best if there are as few witnesses as possible. No witnesses is even better.
I almost turn around and head straight back to Greenville the moment we pull out of the restaurant parking lot. It’s Zelda sitting in the passenger seat, not some worthless fool from one of Domino’s parties. If anything happens to her…
But nothing is going to happen to her.
This is a rush job, and the rush jobs that Domino sends me on are never particularly risky.
If he wants to collect his money fast, we’re probably talking about some college kid who’s playing around with him, acting coy about it.
The address he gave me is located in an area I recognize.
There are a bunch of rental houses there that people from one of the community colleges rent out by the semester.
She’s right about one thing. I’ll be pissed as hell if I drive twenty minutes each way to take her home and then this job takes five, and I’ve wasted most of the rest of the evening.
For whatever reason, she doesn’t like to stay out too late.
Her apartment is supposedly pretty much separated from the rest of the house, but her parents must be obnoxious, enough so that she doesn’t want to disturb them or ruffle any feathers.
And there’s always the matter of Domino, who put a ticking clock on this. The minutes don’t add up, either way. I don’t have time to drive her home and get this done in an hour. I should have—
It’s too late for that now.
I keep my grip steady on the wheel, but my instinct is to crush it beneath my palms. Zelda sits silently in the passenger seat, looking out the window at the trees flying by on the side of the highway.
“How far did you say?” She turns toward me, her face illuminated by the glow from the radio console.
“Fifteen minutes. Maybe a little faster.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her open her mouth like she’s going to ask a question, but then she doesn’t. She turns her eyes forward and continues watching the road.
It’s not five minutes before we turn off the highway and descend into the outer edges of the neighborhood we’re visiting. There’s a gas station right off the exit. I pull into the parking lot and park in one of the spots situated right in front of the store.
Zelda doesn’t ask a single question when I pull out my phone and bring up the Maps app.
She rearranges the bag from the restaurant at her feet and folds her hands in her lap, keeping her breath measured.
In the reflection of the lights from the gas station, I can see that her cheeks are a little flushed, and I want to put the pad of my thumb up against that color, up against that softness, and then put the rest of my hand behind her head, pull her over to me…
But I can’t. I have to get this bullshit over with, get Domino off my back, and keep myself out of trouble.
And after this, I can’t screw up again. Every glance at Zelda makes me more sure than ever that I have to do something else with my life, have to extricate myself from Domino’s grip, have to do it without getting maimed or killed.
This is a bad job, for a bad person, and if I’m going to see her any more—
I push the morbid thoughts out of my head and punch in the address for the house I’m supposed to be visiting.
When the directions come up on the screen, my heart drops into my stomach. “Shit.”
“What is it?” Zelda’s voice is soft, curious.
“I had the address wrong in my head.” It’s not in the nice part of this area.
It’s definitely in the shadier part. Still, this should be an in-and-out job.
I don’t have time to drive her home now and still get back within the hour, and something tells me I shouldn’t be screwing around and testing Domino right now.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s not going to be in a nice neighborhood.”
“Okay.”
I shove my phone into one of the cup holders, reverse out of the parking place, and then shift the car back into drive and head back out onto the street. Zelda is sitting up now, her shoulders tense. I don’t need to tell her that this is dangerous. She knows.
I pull up to the curb half a block before the address. Only a dumbass parks right in front of the place he’s targeting. For city jobs, I almost never drive, so this is different. I don’t want Zelda out of my sight, though, so I park closer than I normally would otherwise.
We sit quietly for a minute while I watch the house, at least as well as I can from two houses away.
After about thirty seconds, a cab pulls up to the curb and the front door opens, letting out three people into the night.
They seem drunk already, their voices carrying, and they pile into the back of the cab.
As soon as it pulls away, I take in a breath and let it back out again. I wish I was wearing my regular clothes, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.
“You have to stay in the car.” At the tone of my voice, Zelda turns toward me, her eyes huge. “Don’t get out for anything. Or anyone. Understand?”
“Okay.”
“Swear to me that you won’t get out of the car.”
A tiny smile quirks the corner of Zelda’s lips, but I think it’s more from nervousness than anything else. “I swear.”
“If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, drive home.”
“But what about—”
“There’s nothing to argue about.” My voice comes out with a hardened edge, and I dial it back a degree. This isn’t her fault. This is a fucked-up circumstance of my life. “Fifteen minutes, Zelda. Then you drive away.”
Her mouth turns down a little bit, and fear takes over the expression of excitement in her face. But to her credit, she keeps it cool.
“Then I drive away.”
I put my hand on the door handle, but Zelda stops me.
“Sawyer?”
“Yeah?”
She opens those perfect lips. “Hurry back.”