CANARY Page 4

  Stepping into the airport, Raize pulled his phone out and kept walking. I moved behind him. I knew my place, but I glanced back to see if I could see Jake or Cavers.

  My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out. Raize had texted all of us.

  Raize: Walk out, wait by the cab line. Jake, get your bag and find us. Cavers, stand fifty yards away. Jake, the same.

  He had already put his phone away by the time I finished reading, and he’d picked up his pace. I hurried to catch up. Raize moved through crowds like I did. He kept to the side and found the path of least resistance through the oncoming people. His head was down, but when a security guy stepped out, Raize guided me to join a crowd in front of us, our heads turned to the side.

  We didn’t want attention.

  I doubted there were arrest warrants out for us, but in our world, you never knew.

  I had to hand it to Raize, because while he was now moving not to attract attention, people around us still reacted. They instinctively moved aside for us, and they often wore a look of confusion as we slipped past, as if their bodies made the decision for them.

  That was Raize, not me. People didn’t move for me. They didn’t notice I was there. I could stand in a shadow for hours.

  I realized I was thinking too much. I needed to turn off my mind and go with Raize as if we were two ends of the same wave, one starting and one ending.

  I could tell Raize noticed when I managed this because his shoulders relaxed, and he began walking more smoothly. He looked up, no longer hiding as much, and we moved as one when a security guard appeared. I almost faltered when we went past a guard with a dog in front of him, but Raize didn’t likely have anything on him. That’d be stupid. We’d pick up product or whatever his orders were after we left the airport. If we’d been transporting, we would’ve driven down.

  As we got to the exit of the airport, the attention began to return.

  People were looking for their loved ones. I could feel eyes on us, and no matter how or where I moved, those eyes never left. My forehead started itching. I didn’t like it, but I stayed with Raize, and as we stepped outside, he had his phone again.

  He stopped, read whatever was on the screen, and looked up.

  A blue truck waited by the curb.

  Raize cursed under his breath. “Wait here.”

  I shifted back, standing by the wall as people leaving moved past me. Raize went over to the blue truck.

  The passenger window rolled down, and he bent forward, but stayed on the curb. The driver spoke to him, motioning, but Raize wasn’t moving. He was not happy. I knew that much. His back was straight, and he was alert. If he’d had a gun, he would’ve had it out by now.

  Feeling a presence on my left, I looked.

  Cavers stood ten yards away from me, waiting just outside the doors. He blocked the flow of people behind him, so they were moving around him. He looked at me first, then slid his gaze to Raize. His mouth pressed into a line, and he stepped away to the other side of the doors.

  He stopped twenty yards away, but instead of moving to the wall, he took position just behind a post. He looked as if he were waiting for a ride to pick him up.

  I went back to watching Raize, whose hand jerked at his side.

  I gasped.

  His hand flexed before he shook it out, and he moved his head from side to side as he turned and walked back my way. His jaw was tight.

  Coming toward me, he saw Cavers and pulled his phone back out.

  Another text came through.

  Raize: Carrie, wait for Jake. Get a cab and I’ll send directions.

  Raize: Cavers, grab a cab. I’m with you.

  Cavers had his phone out and immediately switched position, going for the cab line.

  Raize didn’t say anything, just made eye contact as he walked past me, following Cavers at a good distance.

  I settled back against the wall. Who knew how long the baggage claim line would be.

  The wait was thirty minutes.

  Jake came out, bag over his shoulder, and he was pissed. When he saw me, we walked together toward where the cabs were waiting.

  We needed to be talking.

  Normal passengers who traveled together talked. They didn’t move silently, like they were oddly synchronized by the same thoughts.

  Musing on that, I stepped up next to Jake. “How was the baggage claim?”

  He cut his eyes my way. “Why?”

  I lowered my voice. “Everyone is talking to the people they’re traveling with.”

  He looked, too, and I felt some of his edge fading. He eased up and nodded. “Those bitches were there that were talking you up. They noticed me looking at you, and the cokehead wanted to know who I was.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He dipped his head in a quick nod, his tension coming back. “What’d Raize say to that one? She looked out for blood, thinking I knew you or something.”

  “He threatened to kill her.”

  He grinned, snorting. “Bitches don’t like threats like that. Think they’re above that shit. Fucking socialite princesses.”

  “I think they’re just sheltered.”

  We stepped forward, and I felt Jake studying me. “You know from experience?”

  I opened my mouth to say, “My sister was the same.” But I caught my words.

  Holy—I’d been about to spill to him.

  I didn’t spill to anyone.

  I’d gotten comfortable—comfortable enough that it was dangerous.

  No one could know about my sister. No one.

  But Jake was still studying me, still waiting.

  I lifted a shoulder. “She’s a cokehead. What am I thinking?”

  He frowned and murmured, “Those bitches are the kind that want your blow, but want you to fuck ’em while they snort it. She was frothing at the mouth, thinking Raize was her new drug dealer.”

  I glanced sharply at him. “He comes off like that?”

  “No. He comes off like an asshole or a soldier, but she saw what she wanted to see.”

  Then the worker motioned for us, and we were at the front of the line.

  A cab rolled up, and Jake waved him to stay in his seat. We held our bags with us and slid into the back. Jake pulled out his phone, reading the address Raize had sent in a text, and then we settled back.

  We were on our way.

  We were now in San Antonio.

  I just didn’t know why we were here.

  6

  Carrie

  We stayed in a rundown motel the first night, in two rooms that had an adjoining door. Raize and Cavers in one; Jake and me in the other. The door between the two rooms was open the whole time.

  It was late at night, but it didn’t matter. Raize went to work.

  He drove off and came back an hour later in an SUV. He picked up Jake, and they returned a while later with an older brown truck as well. I just sat back, watching through my window as Raize continuously left and came back with something else: a bag, a second bag.

  Jake laid out our guns on his bed, going through and checking each one. Cavers went with Raize on his last two runs, and I was bored. I could’ve read. I didn’t want to read.

  I started watching Jake, meticulously going over each gun. “I want to learn to shoot,” I told him.

  He swung surprised eyes my way. “You don’t know?”

  I shook my head. “I never wanted to learn.”

  He whistled, going back to cleaning. “Girl, you loca. This life—how the fuck you still alive?”

  “I’m more useful alive than dead.”

  He grunted and bobbed his head, still cleaning. “That’s true, for sure.”

  I waited.

  He kept cleaning.

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I mean it. I want to learn how to shoot.”

  He gave me another long, lingering perusal as he dipped his head slowly forward. “Girl, I ain’t the one who’s going to be teaching you. I ain’t the boss here.”


  “You can still teach me.”

  “When?” His sarcasm was thick. “This is the most he’s left you alone. You’re boss’ secret weapon. Why do you think I’m with you?” He motioned with his rag to the other room, currently empty. “He don’t trust Cavers with you, and he don’t trust Cavers not to kill me. That’s why we got the cab assignments and room assignments we got. You and me tomorrow will be in one truck and those two will be in the other.”

  That all made sense. But that wasn’t what I was asking about.

  I leaned back. “Teach me to shoot.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  When I started on this journey, that had been my one thing I tried to stay away from. I was a year and a half in and learning how stupid that’d been. I should’ve learned before going to work for Bronski. That would’ve been the smart thing to do. Know how to use a gun, but act like I didn’t. Be underestimated. It would’ve been an ace up my sleeve, and in this world, that could keep me alive.

  I needed to learn how to shoot a gun.

  He sighed. “Girl.”

  “Carrie.”

  He frowned, lowering the gun he was cleaning. “Excuse me?”

  “My new name. Carrie. What’s your name?”

  He continued to stare at me, like I’d told him to figure out a puzzle before we could keep talking. But then he pulled out his new license. “Brad Watowski. I’m a Norwegian piece of shit.”

  “Brad.”

  He nodded to me, returning to the gun. “Carrie.”

  I stood from my chair. “Teach me to shoot a gun, Brad.”

  His eyes went flat. “Don’t do this, Girl.”

  “Teach me.”

  “You know I can’t.” He went back to cleaning.

  I bit back frustration.

  “But I guarantee that if you ask the boss, he’ll teach you to shoot, or he’ll okay me teaching you.”

  Relief warmed my chest. “So you’re not saying yes because you need approval?”

  He whistled, shaking his head. “You’ve seen our boss in action. I ain’t doing shit without his say-so.” He gave me a dark look. “You been watching Cavers?”

  A chill went through me.

  The answer was no, because I didn’t like Cavers. I didn’t know why, but I knew I didn’t like him.

  Seeing my look, understanding my look, Jake kept on rubbing that barrel. “Boss don’t want him with us, but he’s not asked you about him because he can’t get rid of him yet. I don’t know what we’re doing here, but I can tell that Cavers guy is a big part of it.”

  That gave me a bad taste in my mouth.

  Whatever or whoever Cavers was, none of us wanted him with us. A person didn’t need my gut instinct to know that. Cavers was either going to bring about our death or he was going to die by our hands. One or the other. A guy like that, there was no other way.

  Jake reached for a new rag. “I’ll tell you right now, though. I’ll be happy when I get the go-ahead to put a bullet in that guy’s forehead. We’ll all be better off. You. Me. El Jefe.”

  I reached for my phone as I glanced out the window. Two trucks had pulled in, and they drove slowly past our rooms.

  “What is it?” Jake asked.

  I found myself standing, though I hadn’t realized it.

  I motioned to the window. “Those trucks look friendly to you?”

  Jake was all business, moving to the window with a gun raised. He eased back the curtain, looked, and cursed.

  That was all I needed.

  I was on the move, grabbing the bags.

  Jake put the rest of the guns in a bag and pulled it onto his back. He was facing the door with a gun in each hand as I came back with Cavers and Raize’s bags. I was wearing mine.

  “You need me to take anything?”

  He was looking outside. “No, but text the boss. Let him know we might be running.”

  I did, and got a near immediate response.

  Raize: Kill them if need be. If not, get away. Take a pic of them if you can.

  I told Jake what he’d said, and he gave me a hard look.

  The truck stopped outside our room.

  We could leave through the back window. Everything was in our bags. The only thing we’d be leaving behind was our DNA, but I could tell Jake didn’t want to do that.

  “Can you take a pic for him?” Jake asked softly.

  I nodded, going to the other room.

  A guy was getting out of the truck. He wore tight jeans, a big belt, a white button down shirt, and a cowboy hat. He walked toward the room where Jake was and peeked inside. I took my phone out, positioning it just beyond the curtain, and I took the pictures Raize wanted.

  The truck.

  The guy walking.

  The license plate.

  The driver still in the truck.

  The images were clear enough, and I shot them off to Raize.

  He responded as I returned to the other room.

  Raize: Leave. Now.

  I shared this with Jake, and he took one last look out the window before motioning to me. “Let’s go out their bathroom window.”

  We went back to Cavers and Raize’s room. Jake shut the adjoining door, locking it without making a sound. We went to the bathroom. It was a small window, but big enough for both of us. I went first, falling into a crouch on the ground outside. Jake tossed all the bags to me, and I kept a lookout as he climbed through.

  I had a moment to reflect as I did so, and this was so not normal.

  Here I was, escaping through a shitty motel bathroom window, and I knew it wasn’t luck that we had this exit. Raize wouldn’t have picked a motel where we could’ve been cornered. We were probably running from local drug enforcers, and if anyone came to check the back, I’d have to shoot.

  So I should probably have a weapon. Jake had his back to me, and I reached up, taking one of his guns from him.

  He cursed, falling the rest of the way, and then glared as he swiped his gun back. Raising it to me, he warned, “You don’t touch this until you know how to shoot it. I’m not going to be taken out by a girl named Carrie. Got me?”

  For some reason, I found that endearing. I grinned. “Got it.”

  He rolled his eyes and reached up, grabbing the window so it closed somewhat.

  Then we took off down the alley, which connected to another alley, and we crossed a parking lot before hitting the street.

  I didn’t know how to feel about what had just happened, but my stomach growled, and I decided that was more important right now.

  I motioned to a late night taco truck. Since we were here, why not?

  There were a few buzzed or drunk people also there so we’d have cover.

  While we were at a picnic table eating our tacos, those guys drove past and took a left at the intersection. I nabbed a pic of that and sent it to Raize.

  My phone rang a second later.

  I answered it on speaker, knowing who it was. “Yeah?”

  “Where are you guys?”

  I told him the taco place’s name. “We’re outside, sitting at a table.”

  “Those guys left?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They didn’t see you eating?”

  Jake had stopped eating, waiting.

  “I don’t think they know who we are.” Not that I knew who we were either. “They were just looking in the rooms when we left.”

  “Is Jake there?”

  “Aye,” he called.

  “Listen, we can’t get away right now. Get a cab, go to a nice hotel. She’s going to stay in the lobby, and I need you to go buy a car. Local. Cash. No paperback.”

  Jake’s gaze met mine. “Got it.”

  “After you get the vehicle, go to a different motel. Have the girl pick it. Text me where you are.”

  Jake’s gaze narrowed and his chewing slowed. He lowered his taco. “You and Cavers need backup?”

  Raize’s response was brisk right before he hung up. “No. Do as I say.” And
then dial tone.

  Jake sighed, raising his taco again. “I ain’t doing shit until I finish my third taco.”

  That sounded about right to me, too.

  Tacos should always come first.

  7

  Carrie

  After we finished eating, we did as Raize had instructed.

  I babysat our bags in the front lobby of a Milton—sitting far, far off in a corner because I had no clue what was in these bags—and Jake went to get us a new set of wheels.

  He came back with an older, black Honda Civic, the engine sounding like it was trying to eat its way out of the car.

  I didn’t say anything as he approached me in the lobby, just focused on not laughing.

  Jake snorted. “Shut it. It’s the best I could do. Boss is going to have to deal.”

  We were just settling in at a motel on the outskirts of San Antonio when Raize and Cavers pulled up. Neither seemed happy when they saw us.

  “What car did you get?” Raize asked.

  Jake nodded to the black one parked in the lot. “That beautiful masterpiece.”

  Raize gave him a second look before assessing the car. His lips pressed into a line, but he nodded. “Fine.” He was back to business, stepping inside our room. We’d gotten the same setup with a connecting door between the rooms. Cavers immediately went to the other room, and I could hear him opening some bags.

  Raize shut the door and stood with his back against it for a second, his eyes downcast.

  Jake and I shared a look. This wasn’t a good sign.

  We heard the bathroom door shut in the other room. The fan clicked on, and Raize lifted his head. His eyes were blazing.

  This was so not good.

  “Go and get a tracker,” he told Jake softly. “I want one on his phone and one on his truck. Now.”

  Jake nodded, grabbing his things on the way out.

  Raize stepped away from the door and came closer to me. “You and he need to know what we’re walking into, but I can’t.” His eyes flicked over my shoulder, and I knew what he was saying. He couldn’t when a certain someone was close enough to eavesdrop.