Surviving Ice (Burying Water, #4)(101)

He leaves me standing inside the front doors.

Sebastian gave the cops a fake name. Or is Sebastian the fake name?

No, his parents called him Sebastian.

I shake my head. I think I’ve reached my limit with that guy for today. The last thing I want to do is see him right now. Let him run his errands. He can come find me and explain shit when he’s done. And if he doesn’t want to explain?

I’m done.

Even as I tell myself that, I know I’m lying. All he has to do is tell me the truth and I’ll accept it, I’m sure of it.

But I am going to make him work for it. At least a bit.

I push through the glass doors, intent on defying Sebastian and hailing a cab to Black Rabbit. I’m almost at the sidewalk before I see Bobby’s hairy face. My feet falter. “What are you doing here?” Besides Sebastian, he’s the last person I want to talk to right now, given how I saw—and heard—way too much of him only hours ago.

“I need you to come with me.”

“What?” I snort. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

He heaves a sigh, like he was expecting this. “Your guy asked me to come get you.”

Okay, now I know he’s full of shit. “No, he didn’t. He doesn’t trust you.”

“Well, I guess he trusts me enough right now.”

I grab my phone and quickly hit Dial on Sebastian’s number. It goes to automated voice mail. I can’t even leave a message. It’s been turned off.

What the hell is going on? Sebastian expected me to call when I was finished so he could pick me up, so why is his phone now off? Did these guys do something to him? Did they finally get even for him embarrassing them so badly?

Bobby’s heavy boots scrape against the concrete as he closes the distance. All calm, like he’s approaching a wild animal, and an edge of unease settles in. I glance around. A few people mill about. There are security cameras in front of the precinct, pointing down this way. Are they too far?

“Don’t make this hard, Ivy.” Bobby reaches out and grabs my puny biceps. I can’t break free.

He opens the door to the pickup truck. Carl’s behind the wheel.

“I’m going to scream.” This is an obvious abduction. Why is no one doing anything?

Bobby’s hand slaps over my mouth in answer, and then his large arm ropes around me, pinning my arms down. I squirm and kick, and sink my teeth into his fingers, but it’s to no avail. In no time I’m lifted and stuffed into the middle of the truck. Bobby slams the door shut, and the truck is roaring to life and heading down the street.

“Did you have to bite me? Fuck!” Bobby yells. “I’m bleeding!”

I open my mouth to let out an ear-piercing scream, when a familiar gruff voice from behind steals my breath.

“Ivy, Jesus! We’re not going to hurt you!” Moe sits in the extended cab. He reaches over the seat to cuff Bobby in the head. “What the hell did you say to her?”

“Nothin’! I told you she was gonna be a pain in the ass.” To me, he demands, “Gimme your phone.”

“No.”

He snatches my purse out of my hand and roots around until he’s found it. Rolling down the window, he tosses it out.

“Why the hell did you do that?” I yell.

“So no one can find you.”

My stomach does a complete flip.

“Oh, relax. Here.” He opens a basic flip phone and, pressing Redial, hands it to me.

Sebastian answers on the third ring.

“What is going on?” I can hear an engine in the background. He must be on the road.

“You’re with Bobby? Everything okay?”

I look at Bobby’s hand, at the marks sunk into his fingers. The sensation of biting into his soft flesh is still fresh on my teeth, making my mouth water in disgust. “Yes.”

“Did you ID the guys?”

Do I want to tell him that? Do I trust him? I don’t know.

“Ivy,” he barks. “It’s important that I know. Did you ID them?”

“Yes. They were two ex-Marines that knew Ned’s client.” How the hell is Ned involved with this? Was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Did his gambling debt have anything to do with this after all? There are still far too many unanswered questions.

But I’m focused on one in particular for now. “Who’s Gregory White?”

“An alias.” He didn’t even hesitate.

“Why do you have an alias?”

“I’ll explain later. Stay with Bobby. He’ll take care of you.”

“Fine. But when this is over, you’re telling me everything, and I’m not asking.”

“Okay, Ivy.” There’s resignation in his voice.

The phone goes dead. I close it and hand it back to Bobby, who is shooting daggers at me, a ball of tissue in his fist. “Ned always said you were as f*cking stubborn as a mule.”



“Stop sulking.”

I eye the giant metal warehouselike building ahead and the chain-link fence surrounding the property. The rows of motorcycles along the far side mark this place for what it is. “Seriously?” It took almost an hour to get to their clubhouse, in a remote neighborhood south of San Francisco. They haven’t told me a goddamn thing. Bobby swears he doesn’t know anything.