Chapter 30: Wet Garbage and Cat Pee
The car rolled to a stop in front of a building that looked like it had been abandoned since the invention of indoor plumbing. The brick facade was crumbling, the windows boarded up, and the only sign of life was a flickering neon "OPEN" sign above a door that very much did not look open.
Malone killed the engine.
I stared. "If this is a safe house, I’d hate to see your idea of a dangerous one."
No response. Typical.
He got out, circled the car, and opened my door before I could even attempt to peel myself off the leather. Every muscle in my body had apparently decided now was the perfect time to stage a mutiny. I groaned as I shifted, my ribs aching and my wound sore.
I swung my legs out, wincing as my ankle reminded me that, yes, it was still pissed. "You know, a little warning next time you decide to take me to Scooby-Doo’s Haunted Hideout would be nice."
"Yes, Madame." Malone hooked an arm under my shoulders and hauled me upright like I weighed nothing. Which, given how much blood I was pretty sure I’d lost, might’ve been close to true.
The alley smelled like wet garbage and cat pee. Terrific. Just what the doctor ordered for someone very close to vomiting and passing out.
Malone steered me toward the door, his grip firm but not crushing. For a guy who could probably snap me in half without breaking a sweat, he had a weirdly gentle touch.
The door creaked open before we reached it.
Nathan stood in the doorway, backlit by a dim yellow bulb that did nothing flattering for either of us. His suit was rumpled, his tie loosened, and his expression—well. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked relieved.