When he answers, I mutter four words. “I need cleanup services.”
The announcement catches him off guard, judging by the way he pauses. “Location.” There’s heaviness in his voice. I know where it’s coming from but can’t bring myself to give a shit.
“Takotna. In the alley behind a bar called Ralph’s.”
“What are you—”
“Immediately. Two messes in need of cleanup.”
“Two? Lucas, what the fuck are you doing? Why are you there? What—”
“Just get it done. I need to get out of here.”
With that, I end the call, tucking the phone away before covering Delilah with my jacket and lifting her oh-so gently in my arms. She’s still breathing evenly. Hopefully, there’s nothing but a bump on the head to worry about. If he cracked her skull or caused internal hemorrhaging…
Well, I suppose I can’t kill him again.
I’m a mess, but it’s dark, and there aren’t many people on the street. I passed a hotel on the way from the helipad and head in that direction, Delilah’s limp body resting in my arms, tucked tight against my chest.
A glance in a darkened shop window tells me I’m bruised, but not badly enough that I’ll raise too many red flags. I could always say we had a little accident and needed somewhere to stay the night. I look down at Delilah. Her eyes are closed, her face that of an angel that’s merely asleep.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper, though I know she can’t hear me. “We’ll get you taken care of.”