I jerked with shock, my eyes flying open when Dave touched my face. Trapped. I clamped down hard on my urge to leap out of the car and run screaming.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, wide-eyed. “You’re white as a sheet.”
“I’m fine.” My voice didn’t seem to be working right.
Hellhound opened his mouth to speak, his eyes worried, and I shook my head. “I’m fine. Let’s get Dave out.”
“I can sit up. Just help me a bit,” he said, still eyeing me with concern.
I sat beside him and pushed him slowly into sitting position, trying not to listen to his grunt of pain. My heart hammered and long tremors shook my body.
“Okay, I’m gonna pull him out now,” Hellhound said. “Just stay up against his back while I pull.”
I nodded, and together we shuffled Dave across the seat. When his feet were on the ground, he drew a long breath. “Should be fine now.”
He grabbed the door and hauled himself up inch by inch, muscles working in his jaw. When he finally stood almost upright, I scrambled out the opposite door and clung to it, trying to calm my breathing.
Dave took a few faltering steps, leaning heavily on the car, before straightening another couple of degrees and limping ahead with more confidence.
“Couch over there,” Hellhound suggested, pointing to a broken-down sofa so begrimed I hadn’t even noticed it skulking in the shadows.
Dave nodded. “Later. Gonna walk a bit.” He hobbled down the bay, and Arnie turned to me with a frown.
“Ya okay, darlin’?”
“Fine.”
“Bullshit. Sit.” He steered me over to one of the grubby upholstered chairs beside the sofa.
“Arnie, I’m fine. You should sit, you look like hell. Let me-”
“Sit,” he interrupted, and pressed me into the chair that had the least amount of duct tape holding the upholstery together. “Stay.”
“Woof, woof.”
“Funny girl.” He strode to the car and returned with the grocery bags, then sank slowly into the second chair. “Here.” He handed me a cellophane-wrapped chocolate snack cake.
I shuddered, my stomach twisting. “I can’t. If I eat that sugary stuff, I’ll throw up.”
“Shit, no orange juice.” Hellhound dug through the bags. “I shoulda told Dave to get some. Wait, here’s some bread an’ peanut butter. An’ some beef jerky.”
“That’ll do.” I accepted the food gratefully. I paused with the open peanut butter jar clamped between my knees, then shrugged and rolled up a slice of bread to drag it through the peanut butter. Hellhound grinned as I stuffed in a mouthful.
“I was gonna offer ya a knife for that,” he observed. “Guess ya don’t need it.”
“Got one of my own. Later.” I wolfed the slice in a few bites and stole a swallow of his beer to wash it down.
“I’ll get ya a beer,” he said as I tore into the beef jerky, but I grabbed his sleeve and shook my head, gulping my mouthful.
“Can’t. I have to be able to drive.” I swallowed a few more bites before turning back to him. “Hold still.”
I wrung out the bloody towel and poured fresh water over it to clean his face more thoroughly. The wound in his forehead still bled sluggishly, and I dug into the shopping bag. At least Dave had gotten a good selection of first-aid supplies.
Taped and bandaged, with most of the blood cleaned away, Arnie looked marginally better. He took the wet towel from me and scrubbed at his beard and moustache.
I pulled two packages of half-melted peas out of the grocery bag and handed one to him. “Put this on your face, and give me your hand.” He slouched down in the chair with a sigh, leaning his head back and draping the bag over his nose, cheek, and forehead. I cleaned his hand and bandaged it, then gently applied the other bag to his swollen knuckles.
“Arnie, I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged and mumbled from under the peas. “No big deal. Price a’ doin’ business with these guys.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Nothin’. I found a coupla guys, talked to ‘em, found out what I needed to know.”
I blew out a breath of frustration. “I meant, what happened to you?”
“Nothin’. Some a’ these guys, ya just gotta talk to ‘em by hand.”
I gave up. “So what did you find out? Did you find out where Nichele is?”
He lifted the peas off his face and squinted at me. “Kinda lost interest in that when I found out Jim’s tryin’ to kill ya.”
“Arnie, we need to find Nichele.”
“I know, darlin’. None a’ the guys I talked to today knew anythin’, but I put some feelers out. Should have somethin’ in the next day or so.”
“Why would James want to kill me?” I asked. “Unless… he’s trying to get rid of anyone who can connect him to Nichele.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinkin’,” Arnie agreed. “Guess I’ll be on the list, too, then.” He lay back and stretched out his legs, replacing the cold bag on his face.
I bolted upright in horror. “Oh, no, Arnie, he wouldn’t. You’re his brother. He wouldn’t…”
“Hell, yeah, he would.” Hellhound shrugged. “I told ya he ain’t on my Christmas card list.”
I clutched his hand. “Arnie, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault…” I froze as another ghastly thought hit me.
“Oh, no! And Dante will be on the list, too! Poor Dante, he doesn’t have a clue, this has nothing to do with him…” I wrapped my hands over my head and curled into a ball, rocking in sheer misery. “Oh, God, Arnie, how many innocent people have to suffer and die because of me?” I clenched a couple of fistfuls of my hair, still rocking. “Everything I touch, everybody I meet…”
“Shhh, darlin’.” The peas hit the floor, and Arnie’s arms were warm around me as he knelt beside my chair. “Shhh. It ain’t your fault. Who’s Dante?”
“He was at the bar, too. He’s a friend of Nichele’s. That’s how I got away from Kane, I pretended I was going home with Dante, and now he’s going to die because of me, just like you and Nichele and probably Dave…”
The peanut butter and beef jerky attempted to climb the back of my throat as my stomach clenched. “Arnie, I can’t do this anymore! I’m going to call Kane. Maybe he can still stop James. Where’s the phone?” I pulled away and staggered to my feet, nausea searing my gut.
Dave limped toward us, looking anxious.
“Slow down, darlin’.” Arnie rose to take me in his arms, holding me firmly. “Ya ain’t callin’ Kane. He’s got orders to shoot ya, too, remember?”
“Arnie, I don’t care anymore! I’m not going to get out of this alive anyway. If that’s what it takes to save innocent people, then the sooner I’m dead, the better. Just let me call him and get it over with.” I tried to twist away from him.
“Aydan, stop!” Hellhound’s voice was like the crack of a whip, and I froze in shock.
“We’re bustin’ our asses here to keep ya alive,” he snapped. “I didn’t get the shit kicked outta me so ya could lie down an’ die. Dave’s fuckin’ crippled, an’ screwed outta his next haul, too, if he don’t end up in fuckin’ jail over this, ‘cause he’s tryin’ to keep ya alive. The least ya can do is try.”
I stared into his swollen, battered face, sick with guilt, and swallowed hard. “But you’d both be fine if not for me,” I whispered.
I felt Dave’s hand on my shoulder, and he came around to stand beside Arnie as he looked in my face. “Aydan, it’s not your fault.”
“It ain’t, darlin’,” Arnie agreed. “This’s my fault for leadin’ Jim to ya in the first place. I shoulda tried harder to shake him. This’s my fuckup, not yours.”
“We knew what we were getting into,” Dave put in. “We’re gonna help you.”
“Guys, you can’t…” I looked from one to the other and gulped back the urge to burst into tears. “Thanks. You’re the best.”
Chapter 24
I turned away to hide my emotion. “So is your
buddy an autobody guy?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“It’s a chop shop, isn’t it?” Dave demanded.
I turned in time to see Hellhound’s gaze dart sideways. “I wouldn’t know,” he said virtuously.
I manufactured a grin. “You mean you haven’t asked the question.”
“That, too.”
“I wondered why you were so jumpy coming in here,” I prodded.
“Yeah, well, sometimes if he’s busy, he don’t like to be interrupted.” Hellhound studied the ceiling. “Ya know how it is when you’re workin’ on somethin’.”
“Yeah. Any chance he’ll be getting any… work… in the next couple of days?” I asked.
“I dunno, hard to say. Ya know how it is when ya got your own business, ya don’t always work regular hours.”
I snorted. “Well, at least we won’t have to worry about him calling the police.”
“Nah, prob’ly not. Wanna beer, Dave?”
I smiled at Arnie, recognizing the peace offering. Apparently Dave was willing to give it a chance, too.
“Yeah. Maybe it’ll relax my back. Thanks.”
Hellhound headed for the front of the bay, and I turned to Dave. “I’m sorry I slammed on the brakes that way. That must’ve really hurt.”
He shrugged and shuffled his feet. “It’s okay. You had to do something. Sorry. Really sorry about the credit card, too,” he mumbled. “Should’ve known better, I just wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay. Do you want me to rub your back again?”
He looked up hopefully. “Would you? That’d be great.”
“Come and lie down on the couch.” I looked at it a little more closely. “Ew. Maybe you don’t want to put your face on that.”
“I don’t care.”
He started to lower himself onto the couch, and I shuddered. “Wait.” I grabbed my hoodie out of the car and spread it out. “There.”
“Thanks.”
He eased into prone position and buried his face in the jacket. I perched beside him and began to knead his back to the sound of his rapturous groans.
Hellhound returned and placed Dave’s beer on the floor beside the couch before sinking into one of the chairs with a fresh bottle of his own. “Jesus, Dave, d’ya mind? Ya sound like a fuckin’ porno movie.”
Dave grunted. “You don’t know how good this feels,” he mumbled into the jacket.
“Christ, if it gets any better, you’re gonna need a smoke after,” Hellhound groused.
I got up to drop a kiss on the undamaged part of his face. “You’re just jealous.”
“Hell, yeah, darlin’. When’re ya gonna make me groan like that?”
“No time soon.” I laid the cold peas over his grin. “Keep these on until I say you can take them off. And here.” I placed the other bag over his knuckles. “Now behave.”
Some time later, Dave sat up slowly while I rubbed my aching thumbs as unobtrusively as possible against my thighs. “How’s that?” I asked.
“Better.” He stood and stretched tentatively. “A lot better. Thanks.”
He made for the grocery bags, and I turned to Arnie with a pang of concern. He was still immobile in the chair, his face obscured by the soggy bag of peas, and he’d been silent the whole time. Not a single smartass remark. That couldn’t be good.
I lifted the bag off carefully. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.”
“You’re very quiet.”
“Just thinkin’.”
“You should eat something, too.”
“Yeah.” He sat up and took the grocery bag from Dave. “Sit down, darlin’. Ya need to eat somethin’ more than a slice a’ bread.”
I eyed the contents of the bags without enthusiasm. Chips, pepperoni, snack cake, beef jerky, and pop. Not a scrap of fruit or anything resembling nutritious food. Guy heaven. At least there was peanut butter and the loaf of whole-wheat bread. I was touched that Dave had remembered my breakfast of choice.
“Thanks for the bread and peanut butter, Dave,” I said, and he flushed and nodded, looking pleased when I helped myself to another slice.
I drank the last of the bottled water and sighed, unsatisfied. I got to my feet. “I’m going out. I should be back in about an hour and a half.”
“Not so fast, darlin’, where ya goin’?” Hellhound rumbled.
“I need to find a library or an internet cafe. I need to tell Spider to protect Dante. Oh.” I stopped as a thought struck me. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Dave demanded.
“I… uh… just thought of something. We have to warn Kane.”
Hellhound rose, frowning. “Aydan, ya promised ya wouldn’t call Kane.”
“I… won’t… But, Arnie, he was at the bar, too. James saw him, and Nichele knows who he is. If James is cleaning up, Kane will be on the hit list, too. We have to warn him.”
“Shit!” His fist clenched. “Goddamn sonuvabitch shit! Who else was there? The fuckin’ Pope, too?”
I sighed. “No. That’s it. Nichele, James, Dante, Kane, and me. But I don’t know how Spider can warn Kane without telling him about us. If Kane finds out he’s been holding out on him, Spider will be in deep shit, too.” I groaned and made fists in my hair. “Christ, I’m fucking Typhoid Mary. One more innocent bystander bites the dust because of me.”
“Don’t fuck Typhoid Mary,” Hellhound said solemnly.
“…What?” I caught sight of the twinkle in his eye and gave him a feeble grin. “Wiseass.”
“An’ anyway, ya ain’t goin’ anywhere. Let Dave or me go.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
I turned to Dave. “Do you know how to play World of Warcraft?”
“Uh, what’s World of Warcraft?”
I turned back to Arnie. “You?”
He scowled and kicked his heel at the concrete floor. “Okay,” he growled. “Lemme change, an’ then we’ll get going.” He extracted one of the new T-shirts from the shopping bag and yanked the tags off.
“No, you guys stay here. I’ll just go.”
“Not a fuckin’ chance.” Hellhound shrugged stiffly out of his jacket, held it up briefly to examine the drying blood, and tossed it on the chair. The tattered rags of his T-shirt followed, and I took a moment to appreciate the view before he pulled on the clean shirt.
I trod carefully. “Um, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come with me. You and Dave both need some recovery time.”
Hellhound eyed me with unconcealed exasperation. “What part of ‘ya ain’t goin’ out alone’ ain’t ya gettin’, darlin’?”
“I’ll attract less attention if I’m by myself.”
“Aydan, for chrissake,” he began.
I abandoned subtlety. “Arnie, you can’t come with me. Look at yourself. You’re a mountain of tattoos and leather, your face looks like you just lost an argument with a Mack truck, and your jacket and jeans would be cleaner if you’d dismembered somebody with a dull axe. If anybody sees you, they’re going to call the police just on general principles. I can’t afford that.”
“Well, ya ain’t goin’ out alone.” He glowered down at me.
“Fine, I’ll take Dave.”
He started to speak, scowling, and I shot him a warning glance. We locked eyes for a couple of long seconds before he blew out a breath. “Okay. Tell me exactly how long you’re gonna be. If you’re gonna be even a second late, call the shop here. I’ll give ya the number. If ya call from a pay phone, nobody’ll know to trace it.”
He turned and limped to the front of the bay, disappearing through a grubby door that presumably led to an office. In a couple of minutes he was back, bearing a scrap of paper with a number scrawled on it.
“Now tell me where you’re goin’. An’ if ya don’t check in on time, I’m comin’ to get ya.”
I gazed around the empty bay. “With what?”
“I’ll find a way. Where’re ya goin’?”
With our itinerary est
ablished, Dave winced back into the passenger seat, and I backed the car out of the bay and headed for one of the free internet terminals downtown.
We’d driven for a few minutes when Dave turned to me. “Uh, Aydan, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What was wrong? Back in the car there? Were you sick?”
“No. If I get too hungry, I start to shake, that’s all.”
He eyed me uncertainly. “Yeah, I figured that out the first day I picked you up. But this was different. You looked like… I dunno, like you were seeing a ghost or something.”
“Oh.” Embarrassment flooded me. “I was in a bad accident quite a few years ago.” I shrugged, watching the road. “It was just a flashback. No big deal.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Yeah, fine.” I hoped he’d drop it, and he mercifully did.
I kicked myself for my stupidity as I shoved four dollars into the parking machine for a lousy half-hour. Note to self: Next time, find a place with free parking.
I approached the computer kiosk in the mall warily, Dave trailing a few feet behind. I glanced back to see him swivelling his head back and forth, looking nervous.
“Dave.”
He caught up to me, and I leaned close to whisper. “You look like you’re about to shoplift something. Try to look casual.”
“How?” He gazed at me imploringly. “Tell me what to do so I don’t screw up again.”
“Come here.” I put an arm around him and guided him to the counter. “Just lean against the counter beside me and pretend to be bored waiting for me. Stare off over my shoulder so you can watch my back.”
He placed an elbow beside the keyboard and propped himself up stiffly, still looking anxious. I patted his cheek. “Relax. Think happy thoughts.”
I turned my attention to the terminal and got in the game.
“Spider.”
“r u OK?”
“Yes. Did you find N?”
“no”
I swore without much surprise, and Dave jerked beside me, his worried eyes glued to the screen. I squeezed his hand. “Dave. Watch my back. Look casual.” He nodded and cast a nervous gaze over my shoulder, and I returned to the chat screen to find Spider’s text scrolling.
Tell Me No Spies Page 20