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“Remember that. Keep your head down, keep quiet and do what I say.”

“Asshole,” she muttered. And she slid out from the capsule, ready for one more day on the run.

8

The car he stole this time could have been a twin to their first venture into Grand Theft Auto, Jilly thought, assuming he didn’t make a habit of it. It was an anonymous little gray sedan, and this time she didn’t make the mistake of heading for the right side.

It was a cold, gray day, and she was reduced to her sweatshirt again; he’d commandeered the leather jacket, but she was damned if she was going to shiver. Her backpack was sitting on the backseat, full of clean underwear and textbooks, and she didn’t know whether to be pissed that he hadn’t brought it in or relieved that it hadn’t been lost. She decided “pissed” was her default, and she leaned back against the seat, her arms folded across her chest, as he took off into the traffic at a nightmare speed.

Jilly had been raised on L.A. freeways, but occasionally cowardice was the only option. She squealed, shut her eyes and slid down where she sat, clutching the cloth seat with both hands and holding her breath. She considered praying, but she was too busy holding on as he sped through the crowded streets, clipped corners, zipped down back alleys that were barely wide enough for the small car. All she could do was wait it out, knowing she was going to die in a twisted pile of metal and flames, but at least he’d go with her, the son of a bitch, and—

He stopped so fast that her body hurtled toward the window, the seat belt and Reno’s outstretched arm catching her before she made contact. “We’re here,” he said.

“Here, where?” They had parked outside of a huge warehouse-type building, surrounded by a high stone wall. It looked about as welcoming as a maximum-security prison.

“I decided it was time for you to meet my grandfather.”

She just looked at him. “Doesn’t he think I’m dead?”

“Ojiisan is adaptable. You have to be in his line of work.”

“He won’t mind that you lied to him?”

“He’s not going to be pleased with me, but then, he considered me a total disgrace to have let you die in the first place. I imagine finding you still alive will take care of some of his displeasure.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m kind of hoping he’ll kick your butt,” Jilly said cheerfully.

“If anyone could, it would be my grandfather,” he said glumly. “He won’t let anyone get to you, though. I’m putting you in his hands while I find out what the fuck is going on.”

Suddenly she didn’t feel like needling him. “You’re leaving me?” There was no anxiety in her voice—she could be proud of that.

“Your prayers have been answered. I dump you with Ojiisan and you never have to see me again. He’ll make arrangements for you to get home.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” He must have finally noticed something in her tone of voice, because he looked at her more closely. “Don’t tell me you aren’t as happy to get rid of me as I am to get rid of you, because I won’t believe you. I think we’ve had about as much of each other as we can stand.”

The stupid idiot didn’t even realize that his casual words were like a blow. If she didn’t have to struggle so hard to be unaffected by them, she would have kicked him in the shins. Or burst into tears, neither of which was an option.

“Of course,” she said, her voice cool. “I’m just wondering why you didn’t take me here before and make life a lot easier.”

“Ojiisan has a traitor in his organization. I don’t know who, I don’t know why.”

“And you don’t think this so-called traitor will decide to get rid of me?”

“There’s no reason. You don’t matter—the only reason anyone was after you was to lure Taka into the open. Once you’re inside the compound, there will be dozens of men to look out for you. One traitor—even a handful of them—won’t get past the protection my grandfather can set up.”

“You know,” she said in a conversational tone, “if you tell me I don’t matter one more time, I’m going to…to…” She struggled, trying to think of something dire enough to threaten him with. “I’m going to cry,” she said triumphantly.

And he did look rattled at the thought. “You matter to Summer,” he said. “And I’m sure you matter to all your friends and lovers back in California. You just don’t matter to me.”

A gun, she thought. If she had a gun she’d shoot him. As it was, all she could do was summon up her sweetest smile. “Ditto,” she said.

“Ditto?” he echoed, his forehead wrinkling. He was wearing sunglasses again, hiding his eyes from her, hiding his expression. She considered yanking them off his face, throwing them on the ground and stomping on them.

“Meaning, I feel the exact same way,” she said. “Take me to your grandfather so we can get this over with.”

For once he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.


Tags: Anne Stuart Ice Romance