Page 18 of Bad Attitude
“You were just involved in a bank robbery that left a man dead and two of their staff in the hospital.Makeyourself seen.”
My jaw clenches as I realize there’s no getting out of this. “Fine. Somewhere quiet and early. Six a.m., Saturday?”
“Venice beach, near the Surf Shack. I’ll bring my dog.”
The line goes dead, and I shut the phone down before putting it carefully back in its hole in the floor. Then I pull the dresser over the top of it, just to make sure. I want her in this room, in my bed, just as soonas I can get her here.
It wouldn’t do for her to find this. No, that wouldn’t doat all.
What am I doing chasing after Genesis? One of Renner’s goddamncrew?
Good questions, but I don’t care.
She’s got inside my head, and I’m just fine with that. I want to get insideher, and that’s the only thing that matters right now.
Except it’s not. I have to look at the bigger picture.
Kurt Renner is going down; Mercer won’t accept any other outcome.
How the hell do I do that, while also keeping Genesis safe?
Five
Raven
It’s gone midnight by the time I get back to Tujunga, and I’mpissed.
At Kurt, at Kawasaki, at myself for letting this happen.
How long until he sings? Is my face already plastered on the news?
No… it can’t be. Not yet, anyway. Kawasaki doesn’t know my full name, just my first.
Yeah, because so many people are called Genesis.
Shit!
So what now? Skip the city, ride far and long? On what cash?
I’m wearing a backpack loaded with valuables, but I can’t touch that. Kurt would kill me. Besides, I wouldn’t do that to the crew. And I have to drop it off before I can go, for the same reasons.
There’s no choice. Head to my apartment, pack shit up, ready my bike for a long trip, drop the bag offwith Kurt tomorrow night. Then go.
I can’t even head for home. If they’ve got my name, they’ve got my family. My parents are going to be so disappointed. My brother… well, he probably won’t be surprised. He might even come and visit me in whatever penitentiary I end up at.
Goddamnit.
I kick the door open to my apartment, slam it shut behind me, the petty acts of violence doing nothing to take the edge off my anger. Backpack goes under the bed, just so I don’t have to look at the damn thing.
The TV will have the confirmation I’ve been dreading, and I almost don’t turn it on. But I need to know how bad it is.
It doesn’t take long to find a channel; the coverage is everywhere.
I see the headline. I sink down into the couch, staring at it. Whatever the anchors are saying just washes over me.
Kawasaki’s dead.
Not just captured.Dead.
