Chapter 144 – Old Friend

• Three hours after that, I pull one of Christian’s fancy cars up in the parking lot of Lupa and let out an anxious breath, my hands tight on the wheel.
• “You’re fine, Bambs,” Frankie murmurs, and I glance briefly down to where he’s tucked himself next to and under the dashboard of the passenger seat, where he can’t be seen through the window.
• I laugh again, as I’ve been doing for hours now, to see my big tough mafia friend curled up down there with a gun held casually in his hand – a much larger gun than the one he gave me earlier today, which is stowed neatly in my bag.