I reach the apartment seven minutes and forty-five seconds later, my tires screeching as I stop. Viking and Hawk are outside, throwing junk in the back of their van—Izzy's changing table, a bag of diapers, what looks like most of the contents of my closet in a pile. I'm being moved out, whether I like it or not.
Snark's just coming out the door, and behind him, Bear with Izzy in the crook of his arm. She's playing with his beard, oblivious to the chaos around her. I burst out of my car, running straight for her. “Izzy!'
“She's safe,” rumbles Bear, holding her out for me to grab.
I squeeze her tight and kiss her on the head. “What happened?”
“No time,” snaps Viking. “Alessa, strap Izzy into your car and get in on the passenger side. Snark, you drive. Hawk and Bear, in the van. We're getting the fuck out of here.”
As if in response to his commands, the sound of police sirens cut through the air.
“Wait,” I yell. “I live here. Maybe I can tell them it's fine. That no one's in trouble. Just—”
“Alessa, guns were drawn. They're not going to give a fuck. Get into the car now.” Viking points, his face a cold mask of efficiency. His military training is shining through.
Jesus. I throw Izzy into the baby seat and buckle her up in record time. Her little forehead crinkles in worry, and she whimpers. She can tell something’s wrong, and in a second when she realizes I don’t have her usual crinkly toy, she’s going to wail, but there's no time to waste. Instead of jumping into the passenger seat, I slide into the back next to her. Closer to my baby.
Snark's already in place, and the moment I slam the door shut, he pulls out. My Audi isn't exactly a racecar, but he makes it give us all it's got and we clear the neighborhood just as the flash of blue lights comes into view on the other end of the street. Zooming down a side street, we’ve got the guys' van right behind us, close enough that I can make out Viking and Hawk's stern expressions and the hulking shape of Bear behind them.
“Oh God! Bea! If she comes home—”
“Already told her to stay clear. She'll be safe so long as she doesn’t do anything stupid,” says Snark as we take a corner so hard I feel the right side of the car start to lift. I grab the oh shit handle over the door with one hand and Izzy’s car seat with the other, like I can create a cage with my body. Izzy starts to cry, but she's probably the safest person in the car. I didn't skimp on the child seat when I bought it, luckily.
We straighten out with a screech, powering down the street towards the highway. One ignored red light later, followed by a honking concerto and a whole lot of middle fingers aimed our way, we tear up the on ramp heading south.
“We're going to the clubhouse? Are you sure that’s safe? Maybe I can hide out in a hotel until things die down.”
“Fuck that. Viking said clubhouse, so that’s where we’re going.”
I’m scared, but I’m not dumb. I should've realized going back was only a matter of time once the guys found me. I totally didn't expect it to be while being chased by the police, though.
“What happened? No one got shot, did they? Dario's a creep, but I don't want him dead. I just want him to leave me alone.”
“No, but there was a whole standoff thing. It was fucking awesome, actually. Well, aside from Hawk almost getting his face rearranged. But, uh… words were had. He’ll be back with reinforcements. We're four tough motherfuckers, but even we can't take on a Mafia army alone.” He says it like he's really disappointed, and that running away is some sort of personal defeat.
“I'd just rather no one gets shot, but that's me, I guess.”
“I’m with you in theory, but scum like that guy doesn’t deserve your worry. You should focus on us, and how you’ll thank us for keeping you safe.” He's focused firmly forwards, but I can picture the smirk at that last comment.
“Really? Even when we're in danger?”
“Especially when we're in danger. I like a little excitement with my excitement.”
“You're nuts.” I roll my eyes even if he won't see it, then concentrate on Izzy. “Shhh, I’m here, don’t worry. Everything’s going to be just fine.” Once we get on the highway and the driving smooths out, she calms down and her eyes start to droop.
My phone rings. “It's Dad. What do I tell him?”
“That you're safe, but not where we're taking you.” Snark swears as a slow-moving delivery truck pulls in front of us and we have to swerve. Izzy wakes up and reaches, thinking I'm here to take her out.