With A Twist(36)

I’m going to dance my ass of, just wait and see.

Oooh, I hope I make enough in tips to get a small microwave for my apartment.

I’m going to be so tired tomorrow, but this will be worth it.

Simon ignores her, working over his phone, but his lips curve up in a smirk. He thinks this is hilarious. He’s taking a woman off to her doom and her running banter amuses him.

Andrea never looks at me once in the mirror, and her chatter starts to die down. Her head lolls back onto the seat and she mutters, “I’m a little tired. I’ll nap on the way there.”

Simon glances over at her, reaches an arm out, and curls his hand around the back of her neck. Pulling her toward him, he pushes her head down and she’s gone from my line of sight. “Just rest your head on my lap, baby.”

My fingers curl into the steering wheel so hard, I’m afraid they’ll break from the tension. He’s got fucking Andrea’s head on his lap… probably nestled up against his dick… and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Simon goes back to messing with his phone, and I breathe a little easier. Looks like he has more important things to do than fucking around with a drugged stripper.

Another ten minutes and I turn onto Devine Street. Just when I hit the intersection with 8th, Simon reaches over my shoulder and points. “Pull into that alleyway on the right.”

I make a slow turn and creep the Beamer down the dark alley that runs back a couple of hundred feet past an old warehouse. At the back corner of the building, it expands into a small parking lot surrounded by the backs of other buildings. There are two tall light posts on opposite corners of the lot, but the lights on one are burned out completely. There’s a black Mercedes G500 parked under the burned-out lamp, so I pull the car over there and park a few spaces away. However, I pull the car in perpendicular so the headlights of Simon’s car illuminate the area.

When I put the car in park, I turn around to look at Simon in the backseat. “How do you want to play this out?” I ask.

“She’s out cold so pop the trunk. Roll the window down. Stay in here until I get the money, then I’ll tell you when to bring her out.”

Relief courses through me that Simon didn’t pull Andrea out with him. It was a brilliant idea of hers to fake being passed out from the drug.

“Sure thing, Simon,” I say and roll down the window.

He gets out of the car and at the same time, I see the driver’s side doors open in sync on the Mercedes. A huge, beefy guy gets out from behind the wheel. I don’t see any obvious gun on him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not packing. From the backseat emerges a tall, slender guy of about fifty years old. He has thinning, blond hair, pale skin, and a hawk-like nose. He’s dressed in an expensive suit, which he buttons the jacket on as soon as both feet on are on the pavement.

I do a quick scan of the area and hope to hell that Mike has his team setting up right now. There’s the alley that leads back out to Devine that’s open, and one other alley off the west side of the parking lot. My guess is they’ll be coming in from that way, as it’s closest to our vehicles and completely dark, but I’d bet money they have undercover cars parked right out on Devine as well.

The buyer reaches into the backseat of the Mercedes and pulls out a small, leather satchel. Simon walks up to them, they do a short handshake, and Simon takes the satchel. I watch as he opens it, counts through the cash that’s in there, and then turns to me.

“Bring her out, Raze.”

Simon and the buyer talk quietly, the big driver standing with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning back against the front fender. This tells me that they don’t expect anything but a nice, easy transfer of goods.

I get out of the car and open the back door. Andrea has rolled to her side and is leaning away from the backseat a bit. I notice she’s tucked her baggy t-shirt into the back of her jeans. Her eyes are open, and I give her a short nod of my head.

Leaning my entire upper body into the car, I say, “Come on, Nikki. Time to get up.”

Andrea deftly slips her hand under the front of my own t-shirt and pulls her Glock out of my waistband. My own gun is tucked securely in the back of my jeans.

My body is completely shielding Andrea from their sight, so I say a bit louder while leaning further into the car. “Come on, Nikki. Wake the fuck up.”

As I’m leaning in, further hiding Andrea from their line of site, she tucks her Glock into the back waistband of her own jeans. The minute it’s secure, I slide my hands under her armpits and start pulling her out of the car. She looks like dead weight in my arms, and her head lolls to the side. When I pull her free, I loop a forearm under her breasts to hold her up… her back is to my front, hiding the gun, and when I pull her free of the door, I turn her toward the men. Reaching up with my other hand, I lightly slap at her face.