24. IVY
24
IVY
“Are you sure?” I twisted in my seat, peering out the rear window, the lights blurring together as we drove away—the shadowy figure still rooted by the front door.
“Did you see that tattoo on his face?” Mom pressed.
“Yeah?”
“Steve—I mean, Daniel’s friend had that same tattoo.”
“Daniel hung around men with tattoos on their faces, and you didn’t think that was strange?”
“Half your father’s coworkers have tattoos.”
Fair point. Last time I checked, tattoo parlors didn’t have a sign that said, Bad guys only, please .
“Do you think he saw us?” I asked.
Red had remained completely composed and had efficiently exited the parking lot.
“He gave no indication, but we need to watch for tails to be safe,” Red advised.
“How would that guy know we were coming?” Equally important, how had Daniel assembled him so quickly? I thought Daniel would be hiding in a hole for, I don’t know, a day or so before he’d regroup and come after us.
Then again, what had I been thinking, pulling a timeline out of my ass?
Idiot, Ivy. You never should have left.
Red took a right turn, his attention darting to all his mirrors as he blended into nighttime traffic, the glow of the dashboard illuminating the concern etched on his features.
“Looks like Daniel anticipated you’d come to the police station,” he suggested, his tone measured.
The problem was, until I could safely talk to Detective Mitchell, our only chance of surviving was now in the hands of Grayson and Hunter’s security guy, Red.