Minka #3
“Not getting on the bus.” Archer grips the back of my neck and pulls me away. “Not till you tell us what the hell is going on. You have us at a disadvantage, Bishop. All five Malones, three Malone wives, and a baby who could be born today, and it wouldn’t be too soon.”
Christabelle growls. “I’m not giving birth today! I’m fine.”
“That’s an entire family line in one well-timed accident,” Tim rumbles. “Excuse me for not appreciating our impromptu visit to the fucking sticks.”
“Why the hell would we want to wipe out your family line?” Sophia huffs. “I create helpful networks that span this country to use them. Not to kill them.”
“It’s handy having cops and medical examiners indebted to you,” I counter, only to glance behind her and find the friendly smile of a woman I’d know anywhere, even if we’ve barely said more than a dozen words to each other, ever.
“And the mayor’s daughter in your back pocket, too, it appears.
” I meet Jen Lawrence’s silver-gray stare.
“Your dad know you’re traveling with undesirables and causing fights in rural airports? ”
She snorts. “My dad know you’ve left the city without returning his calls in favor of meeting up with,” she gestures to Jay and Soph, “ undesirables? You didn’t even fact-check Soph’s request. You just followed orders without question.”
“A professional courtesy, I thought.” Unimpressed, I bring my focus back to Sophia’s. “I won’t make the same mistake twice. What the hell is this all about, Solomon?”
“Can we just get on the bus already?” Christabelle slaps her palm on the smooth black exterior and places her foot on the bottom step.
“I’m not crowning, but I am tired. I need to pee, so can we please get to our hotel?
For the sake of my sanity and the ache I feel in my vagina, I’m begging you lot to stop with the pissing contest.” She shakes Cato’s hand off and takes Jay’s instead, accepting his help and squeezing past Sophia to board the bus.
“Sweet baby Jesus, it’s air-conditioned. ”
“Coming in?” Taunting, Soph smirks and challenges Felix. “We got your girl now, and your plane already left.”
He narrows his eyes. “There were no warnings about it being here, were there?”
“Well… since we’re admitting to lies.” She laughs, leaning against the wall to allow him room to muscle past. Then she looks at the rest of us.
“I got me a pregnant Ms. Cannon and your current New York don. The rest of you are low-level targets in comparison. In or out?” She pokes her leg forward, then back again.
“Come on, folks. This ain’t the hokey pokey. ”
“It’s one case. One DB. One easily solved ID, considering the knee replacement she’s had.
” I slip my hand into the depths of my bag and find an elastic, then I start toward the bus, elbows up, combing my hair with my fingers and tapping Soph’s chin with my arm on the way past. “One case, Solomon. Then I’m telling the mayor his beloved Jenny has shitty friends.
” I march onto the bus and into blissfully cool air conditioning.
Glancing right, I emerge into what can only be described as furnishings well ahead of our time.
Black interiors, silky curtains, and pod-like double-stacked cubbies with luxurious, full-size beds tucked within each one.
“Holy cow.” I finish tying my hair and tug a cubby curtain aside, and peeking in, I spy the perfectly made bed with silky covers and plump pillows.
Better than anything any local hotel would offer.
My heart thrums with both dread and delight.
Angst and humming excitement as I wander the long aisle that is purely sleeping quarters.
Eight beds.
I count them—eight—with the top beds at my chest height, the bottom beds touching the floor.
Small ladders built into the frames make it so sleepers can climb into the top easily, on the foot-end of each cubby is a flatscreen TV nestled into the wall, and on the window side, a slim counter space with cup holders and electrical outlets for phones or whatever.
While the rest of my family bicker and bargain at the bus door, I walk the length of the bus and emerge into a galley kitchen with expensive appliances, stainless steel finishes, and a stone countertop for food preparation.
Past that, I move into the… living room ?
Packed to the brim with really big people.
“Welcome aboard, Chief Mayet.” Spencer Serrano—I already know his name from past encounters—is tall.
Seven feet, easily, with an old scar marking just one side of his face and enough muscle in his neck to make it look thick .
He extends his hand. Not to shake mine, but to take my bag.
“I can store that for you, if you want.”
“Thanks.” Carefully, I bring it over my head and dangle the strap over his palm. “Keep it somewhere cool, please. And don’t drop it. I have glass vials and syringes in there.”
He nods. Not surprised by my words. Not concerned by his newfound responsibility. Which means Sophia already briefed him on my private medical information.
Charming.
“Doctor Mayet.” Kane Bishop steps forward next.
He looks a hell of a lot like Jay. Not exactly the same, but certainly similar enough to prove they’re related.
He doesn’t take my hand, but he stops on my right and turns back to the rest of his crew.
“I think you’ve met most of ‘em, but just in case,” he gestures to the blonde with blue eyes and a blinding smile, “Jess.”
She waves. “Hi, Chief. Good to see you again.”
“Your wife. I remember.”
“Ellie,” he continues, pointing to the next. “You’ve met her.”
Yep. Sure have. “And Jen.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “I know her, too.”
“Mmhm.” He points toward another exceptionally large dude. “Romeo. He belongs to Ellie. And Corey,” he gestures to the next, “belongs to Jen.”
“So what you’re saying is you brought your wives on this dangerous mission?” I bring my gaze back to Jess. “It’s soooo dangerous that you all decided to come, too?”
“What we’re saying,” Corey rumbles, “is we’re vulnerable, too. So tell your Malones to cool their bad attitudes and calm the fuck down, or this is about to get real uncomfortable.”
“The fact you think I can control them is funny.” I startle at a hand placed on my back and glance over my shoulder to find Archer, his fiery eyes burning straight ahead, his stress lines, plain to see.
“They mean you.” I swallow and back up until his chest holds my weight.
Comfort for me. But comfort for him, too.
“Sophia is the one pulling everyone’s strings today, but they’ve brought their families, too, which means you need to chill. ”
“I’d be less unchill if we were summoned with truth,” he grumbles. “Telling my brothers we were in danger, which makes them worry, is not how we enter peaceful interactions.”
“Yeah, but we’re all here now.” Soph strides along the sleep-aisle, all smiles and swinging hips, and though she brings Jay with her, she releases his hand so he can continue past to the— cockpit ?
—and start the bus. “Find a seat and settle in. We’re not supposed to move unless everyone is buckled in. ”
“Can you even drive this?” Cato follows Jay to the front, dragging a captain’s chair around and revealing a dash overflowing with buttons and dials. Screens and sensors. “Jesus, Bishop. You need a special license for this?”
“I can drive an Abrams. I can drive this.” He plops into his bouncy chair and tugs the seatbelt across, then he hits that horn again— da-do-do-doo-doo —and beams. “Sit on your asses, or fall on ‘em. We gotta clear this driveway before the feds get pissy about airport interference.”