Flying down the stairs, nearly buck naked.
Ijumped into the stupid Hipmobile, hitting the accelerator and rounding Hallie’s mansion. The plan was to block the assholes from leaving the neighbors’ driveway. Too late. The perp was already flooring it down the street, careening toward the main gates. I followed them, naked, soap bubbles still sliding down my wet skin.
The Russians showed up as soon as Hallie and I hit California ground, making their intentions clear. They hadn’t forgotten about me, what I did, or where I was.
I was hedging my bets on the front gate being closed. I’d hopefully be able to corner them, beat the crap out of them, and find out where Kozlov was. I wanted to get real nice and personal with him and settle our beef once and for all.
The Escalade zinged past the manicured lawns and excessive Spanish Villas, careening downhill before the gate came into view. Unfortunately, it was wide open. Some YouTube star who lived in the neighborhood snailed his way inside in his H1 Hummer.
The Russians laced through the open wrought iron gate and out of the neighborhood. Still on their heels, I slammed my bare foot over the accelerator.
I flicked my phone and called Max.
“Boss?” he answered immediately.
“You need to get to Hallie’s house right now and keep an eye on her.”
“What’s happening? Is she okay?” He sounded worried, and that made me feel…no, fuck that. It didn’t make me feel. Because I didn’tfeel. But I wondered why the hell he cared about a woman who used him to get to me.
“She’s fine. Someone followed us home from the airport and I’m chasing their asses down. I don’t want her alone.”
I didn’t want her withhim, either. But life was about compromise.
“Who could it be? Didn’t we run a background check on her before starting the post?”
Well, Max, this actually has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me, not that you’re paid to butt into my shit.
“Not sure yet,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Armed.”
“Of course!” Max said. “I—”
I killed the call. My eyes were still zeroed in on the Escalade. The license plate was covered in reflective tape, probably to shake off speed cameras. I could make out some of the numbers, but not all of them.
The two-way road from Hallie’s neighborhood snaked along a mountain. The entire right-hand side was a cliff, bracketed by a low guardrail. The Escalade zigzagged dangerously between the two lanes, trying to throw me off. No cars came from the opposite direction. But when one did appear from the side of the mountain, I floored it and got as close to the Escalade as I could, nearly kissing its bumper. They were trying to lose me. Well, motherfuckers worked really hard to get to me, the least I could do was grace them with my presence.
The driver swirled to the opposite lane again, trying to make the driver of a passing Prius divert their car into my lane and collide with the Nissan.
The Prius grazed me on the left side and I felt the car almost tipping onto the guardrail. I broke left, trying not to lose the Escalade, which was picking up speed, capitalizing on the fact I needed to regain my balance.
The Prius pulled to the right uphill. I could tell the driver was shaken, but uninjured.
The Escalade and I were heading to a multi-lane intersection forking north, south, and east. The Escalade shot through traffic, slipping in and out of the lanes. People honked. Some pulled to the side, not taking any chances. Ten seconds later, the light turned green and the intersection flooded in a river of cars coming from all directions. The Escalade disappeared between them.
“Fuck.” I punched the car horn, producing a deafening sound.
It was done. I couldn’t find them. 1-0 to the home team. This was my cue to tell Tom he was right. The Russians were in the picture. I should bow out and let someone else take care of the Thorne Princess. It was the right thing to do. Shit, it was thesmartthing to do. And all my excuses for staying were dumb at best and pathetic at worst.
I needed to think.
Lurching the Nissan LEAF into reverse, I made an illegal U-turn and darted back to Hallie’s neighborhood. By the time I arrived, Max was already there. He sat with Hallie and Keller in the kitchen.
It looked like they were having some sort of vegan DoorDash feast. Keller was in the middle of telling them about his non-conflict, organic, sustainable Brazilian farm where he sourced most of the fruits and vegetables for his juices. It sounded like the least cost-efficient business plan I’d ever heard of.
Max just kept muttering, “Wow,” while sipping on his green smoothie.