Total D*ck(53)

I put the car in drive and floored it, popping the curb for a moment before getting back on pavement and whipping through the neighborhood.

Scarlett sat up and stared behind us as we sped away.

I glanced at my rearview mirror, but the road was clear.

“Anyone there?”

“I don’t see another car following us. No.”

I turned down a side street, cut through an alley, then moved onto a wider road with plenty of traffic. We stopped at a light, in the middle of a pack of cars.

“We’re safe. Are you hurt?” I grabbed her hand. It was cold and shaking. I brought it to my lips and kissed the back before looking her over from head to toe. Her jeans and short-sleeve sweater were stainless, no blood. I let out a sigh of relief and kissed her hand again. “We’re okay.”

She met my eyes. “Faye and Shorty?”

“I don’t know. But Shorty isn’t a fool, and I have faith.” The thought of anything happening to Faye made my stomach churn, the adrenaline turning to bile.

The light turned green and traffic began moving. We stayed with the pack, making our way to St. Charles Street as a cool wind blew in through the busted-out windows.

“What are we going to do?” The tremor in her voice was like an ice pick in my heart. I never wanted to hear her afraid.

“Call Carey.” I squeezed her hand and let it go to make a turn.

“But that’s not safe.”

“I know, but we don’t have any choice. Not anymore. I’m not going to bring this sort of danger to anyone’s doorstep who isn’t already involved.” Going to my brothers Lincoln or Wash had been my first thought, but I wouldn’t risk them. Same thing for any of Scarlett’s friends or family.

“All right.” She dug through her bag and pulled out her cell phone as I pulled onto St. Charles. We melded into the steady flow of traffic that fed the heart of the city. The streets were clogged, Mardis Gras having taken over.

She dialed. After a few moments, she frowned and dialed again.

“What?”

“Went to voice mail.” She tossed her phone into her lap. “Voice mail both times.”

“Fuck.” I slammed my palm on the steering wheel, but when Scarlett jumped, I reached over and took her hand again. “Sorry. Sorry about that.”

She shrugged. “I think you’re allowed a little venting after surviving a gunfight like we did.”

“We really did, didn’t we? When we get out of this, and we will”—I glanced to her —“I’m going to tell my brothers, and they are going to be so jealous.”

She shook her head, a small smile breaking across her lips. It was exactly what I wanted to see.

“We have to get out of it first.” Her phone beeped. She swiped the screen and wrinkled her brow.

I pulled into a gas station and parked along the darkened side of the lot. “What?”

She showed me the screen. It listed an address in Metairie, a town a few miles up the river.

“He wouldn’t just send his address, right?” She wrinkled her nose. “That would be stupid, and Carey is definitely not a dummy.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” I put the car in gear and eased out of the gas station.

“What if it’s not from him? What if it’s a trap?” Scarlett’s voice rose as I turned left and headed toward Metairie.

“We’ll deal with it.”

“Maybe we should go back to Guy’s house.” Scarlett chewed her thumbnail.

“I don’t think that’s any safer than my place turned out to be. If Clinton and his crew—”

“Oh God.” She grabbed my arm and the color drained from her face. “Do you they they’re . . . Do you think they were killed?”

“Clinton? He’s the sort of guy who dies of old age despite doing dangerous shit all his life. I’m sure he got away. Don’t worry.” I wasn’t half so sure as I sounded, but I didn’t want her worrying needlessly. I didn’t know if she was in shock or even if I was. Somehow, I stayed calm, calmer than my usual.

The wind whistled through the busted windows, so I turned the heat on high to counteract the chill. We reached the address Carey had provided in fifteen minutes. A dark, burned-out warehouse graced the corner, and the other three corners were taken up by overgrown and decrepit buildings.

“He’s not here.” Scarlett craned her head back to check behind us. She’d done it a lot during our drive—fear in every head turn.

I had to get her somewhere safe, and I desperately wanted her in my arms. But not until I was certain she was out of harm’s way.

Her phone pinged again. She swiped the screen and showed me the words.