Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(34)

“Listen, lady,” he said. “I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in. If you owe those guys money, if you’re trying to get free of your pimp, if this is a drug thing, I do not f*cking know or care. But you are bugf*ck nuts, and I am having no part of it.” He grabbed her arm and strode toward the diner, hauling her along behind him.

She struggled. “Hey! Where are you taking me?”

“To use the phone at the diner to call the cops,” he said. “Since you killed my smartphone.”

“No!” She twisted like an eel, but his grip was implacable. “Listen to me! Bruno, please, just stop one second and listen!”

He cursed himself for being a f*cking fool, and stopped. “Make it quick.”

“I have done nothing wrong! I’m not a prostitute, I don’t sell or do drugs, and I’ve never borrowed money in my life except for college!”

The outrage in her voice almost made him smile. He channeled stone-faced Tony. “You could be lying.”

“I don’t lie!” she yelled back.

“No? You sure suck when it comes to omission of relevant truths. Like letting me know you’ve got a contract out on your life before throwing me down and f*cking me blind, for instance?”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped. “I understand that you’d rather stay on the right side of the law. So would I, if I was given the luxury. But if you call the cops now, I’m going to die. And probably you will, too.”

He snorted. “That’s crazy.”

“No, that’s a mathematical certainty. The only way to stay alive is to fall off the map. That’s where I’ve been for the last six weeks!”

He looked pointedly at the bodies strewn behind them. “You weren’t quite as far off that map as you thought you were.”

“I guess not,” she said. “They must have been watching you. Waiting for me to make contact with you. Maybe they bugged your cell. Was it on you when you served me dessert?”

“Oh. So you’ve got this all figured out? A big conspiracy theory?”

Her eyes widened. “Does this look like a conspiracy theory?” She pointed at the bodies, finger shaking. “Those guys were not theoretical!”

“Maybe not, but when you start dragging me and my dead mamma, God rest her soul, into your personal problems with the criminal underworld, I call it a goddamn conspiracy theory!”

As if in answer, they were blinded by headlights as the SUV came to life, roaring toward them, front grill gleaming like a hideous metal grin. Bruno sent Lily flying and leaped. The SUV bounced over the bodies, glancing against the brick wall where they had been standing. Metal screeched, sparks flew. The SUV righted itself, cut the curb, jouncing and rattling. The taillights disappeared around the corner. He hadn’t gotten the plates. Too dark, too fast. Too rattled.

He hadn’t checked the vehicle. Christ, what a sloppy, pinheaded, cretinous * he was. He didn’t deserve to still be alive. He ran to Lily, who was hunched, trembling on the ground. She’d acquired even more bloody scrapes on her legs. “You OK?” he asked.

She lifted her face, blinking, swallowing. “I think so.”

Bullshit. She was terrified. Traumatized. No matter what she might have done to unleash this hell upon herself, he was still furious at the *s who had done this to her. “I should call an ambulance for you,” he said. “You need to be checked out. Here, let me—”

“No!” She pushed him, lost her balance, flopped back onto her knees. “The emergency room would be even worse than the cops. And I can’t pay for it anyway. Those places are expensive. I understand if you can’t believe me. But just let me go. Let me run as best I can.”

Run? She couldn’t even f*cking walk. He stared down at the tangled fuzz of golden red curls on the top of her head. “I can’t do that,” he said helplessly. “How could I possibly do that?”

She looked up. Her face crumpled. Mascara tears tracked down her cheeks. “The cops can’t save me from these people, whoever they are,” she quavered. “I just want to keep on living. That’s all.”

“But you’re all beat up! You need the cops! That’s what they’re for!”

“If you don’t believe me, then it’s not your problem,” she said. “Just let me disappear.” She tried again and struggled to her feet.

“Aw, f*ck,” he muttered. “Fuck, f*ck, f*ck.” He kicked one of the swollen garbage bags, which split open, spilling out a foul, fermented slop. He stared up at the orange-tinted sky, releasing a stream of expletives in Calabrese that would have made Uncle Tony proud.

“Why, Lily?” he demanded. “Why is this happening to you?”

She scanned the street behind him, nervously. “Not here. I’ll tell you everything I know, which isn’t much, but not here. They’ll be back.”

Bruno felt trapped. The zombie masters massacre had shown him how unpleasant it was to be on the wrong side of the law, even for a short time. It had taken a while for the powers that be to sort out who had slaughtered whom.n the meantime, he and Kev and the rest of them had been locked down and examined from all sides. He remembered the stifled feel of it. Like a hand pressing down on his throat.

Jail would suck. He saw why Tony had run away from the life, many decades ago. Tony had used to work for his cousin, Don Gaetano Ranieri, a mafia boss back in Jersey. Tony had been his right-hand man. The protracted bloodbath of Vietnam had been preferable to that.