“Mia?” Fletch’s chest convulses when the girl stands, then he slams his foot to the brake and has us skidding to a stop. “Mia!”
Diving out of the car, he leaves it to idle, to roll forward, so I put the car in park and snatch out the keys, then I sprint onto the road and meet my partner when he swings Mia into his arms.
“What are you doing out here?” Fletch holds the toddler against his chest and heavy-handedly pushes tears off her face. “Baby? What are you doing?”
“Minka made me sit down.” Her voice is a hiccupped whimper. Her eyes, bloodshot and swollen. “She said I can’t get up unless it’s for her or you.”
“Minka brought you out here?” Fletch’s voice grows angrier. “Mia! Minka brought you here?”
She shakes her head and drags her sleeve along her top lip. “Felix did. Minka ran away wif me.”
“Oh god.” I drop my hands to my knees. “Oh fuck.”
“She ran away,” Mia continues. “Then she made me sit here.” Reaching up, she taps the hat on her head. “She said not to take this off, or I’ll get too cold.”
“Where is Minka now?” I push up straight and take Mia’s face in my hands. I’m too rough. Too demanding. My gruffness is punctuated by the girl’s soft whimper. “Moo? Uncle Archerneedsyou to tell him where Minka is right now. Where’d she go?”
“Back there.” Swallowing down her sobs, she points in the direction we were already going. “She went back to the shed.”
“Fuck.” I bite the word off and take off in that direction. “I’m going to get her.”
“Arch!” Fletch calls out. “Just wait, Arch! You can’t go alone.”
“I’m not waiting.”
“I can’t come with you,” he argues. Too loud. Too informative. “Archer! Just give Aubree a minute to get here so she can take care of Mia, then I can—”
“Take care of your daughter!” I call back. “I’ll take care of my own shit.”
Putting my head down, I start at a sprint toward the oversized warehouse that was once a place where boats were built and made ready to be put in the water. What began as an authentic family business, like many others in Copeland, was twisted and tarnished when those in power figured out how to use it for their own means.
Boats coming and going were the perfect avenue to move product, so what was once legitimate was soon bought out, bullied out, or straight up taken in a hostile move.
Leave on your own two feet, or leave in a box.
Those were their only two options.
No doubt, similar choices were afforded to Minka today.
When the warehouse comes into view, I slow my steps and control my breathing. Calm my heart. Focus my eyes and mind. Because Felix won’t be traveling alone, and he’s smart enough to have scopes on the outside of any building he occupies.
The fact Minka was able to escape once means Felix let her.
That she went back, for whatever reason, won’t grant her the same leniency.
MINKA
Ihuddle behind a massive boulder and watch, with my heart in my throat, as Archer comes over a small hill and exposes himself to the warehouse. A gun in his right hand. His shoulders tight. High, as though to protect his head.
He wears no jacket. Just a black shirt, jeans, and boots. His holster on his leg, another gun at his hip.
Archer isn’t nearly as protected as he should be, but he walks like he is.
He heads toward two guards, not knowing they’re at the door. But I can’t tip him off without telegraphing both our presences. So I stay low and think, think,thinkof a way out of this mess.
I have no phone.
I have no weapon.