Chapter 18

Police are scattered everywhere. The Russians are in the backs of separate cruisers. A woman in police gear barks out orders to her team, obviously in charge.

Wave eventually turns back to me and asks, “How did you get here?”

“I drove. My truck is parked near the corner behind a dumpster and three cars.”

He provides me with a short and abrupt kiss. “Stay here. Give me two seconds.”

I watch him vanish inside the group of police, commotion, and rain. A minute later, he returns.

“Let’s get out of here. Hand over the keys to your truck. I’m driving.”

We walk to my truck, shoulder to shoulder. We’re silent. Once at the truck, he opens the passenger door, and I climb inside. I watch him cross in front of the truck, and he jumps in, behind the wheel. He turns the engine on, puts the vehicle in reverse, and we leave the alley and disorder, unharmed.

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