“Speaking of Hailstorm,” Shooter's voice broke in as he moved to lean up between mine and Breaker's seats, holding an arm out, pointing out the windshield and up the hill.

Where Hailstorm was smoking.

“The fuck?” Breaker said, jaw getting tight.

“Shit,” Shooter said, but an accent slipped into the word, dragging it out, making it sound like “sheeee-it”. Making it sound southern. I turned my head slightly, looking at the side of his face, wondering about him, wanting to know his story. “What did we get ourselves into here?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Fuck if I know,” Breaker said, shaking his head. “But we ain't hanging around to find out. We'll drop by my place, get some cash and supplies and get the fuck out of here,” he said, sounding all bossy and I felt a familiar tug of desire in my core. Bossy Breaker. There was nothing better.

“Drop by my place too,” Shooter said, shrugging when Breaker sent him a disbelieving look. “Been in these clothes for a week, man. Need to grab some shit if we are bugging out.”

“Fine,” Breaker said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, can we stop at the motel I was staying at?” I asked, looking between the two of them who were both looking at me like I was crazy. “What? You can get cash and 'supplies', whatever those are. And he can go get clothes? I can't stop and pick up my laptop? It cost me four thousand dollars, Breaker. Four thousand. Plus, I'd like you to scare the hell out of the creep who runs the place,” I added with a nod of my head.

Breaker's eyes slanted to mine, the light blue looking angry. “The creep?”

“Creepy Bob,” I said with a nod. “I was pretty sure if Lex's guys didn't bust in and steal me that he would have used his spare key to come in and roofie me. He was disgusting.”

“Well, now we got ourselves a party,” Shooter said, winking at me with a huge white-tooth grin that made my belly do a weird little flip-flop. I could see him being dangerous if I wasn't already a little too enamored by his best friend.

Turns out, we were pretty bad at the whole 'bug out' thing. It was supposed to happen in a matter of like twenty minutes. That was the whole point. But we drove into town, pulling off in front of Shooter's place. He disappeared inside and came back twenty minutes later, freshly showered and dressed, with two huge duffel bags and a backpack. He threw the two duffels into the flat, pulling a cover over the top so nothing would fly out, and bringing the backpack into the backseat with him.

He saw me eyeing it curiously and unzipped the side, showing me an amount of money I paled to even consider. Then he grinned. “Just to get us started. Got some more stashed in some other places we can hit along the way to wherever we are going.” He paused, then patted Breaker on the shoulder. “We should say goodbye to Paine.”

This got a grunt from a very impatient Breaker. But he pulled the truck down the corner from the abandoned warehouse he had originally kept me and all three of us rushed inside a tattoo shop and was met by a huge (meaning even slightly larger than Breaker) absolutely gorgeous light-skinned black guy covered in black and gray tattoos. I wondered, fleetingly, if all hot guys just like... ran together. Because, really, between the three of them... holy hell.

“So this is her,” Paine said after grabbing the back of Shooter's neck and hauling him into his body, the relief evident on his face. “You worth all this trouble?” he asked, but his tone was teasing.

“Not at all,” I said, giving him a smile, “but they're stuck with me now.”

He gave me a spine-tingling grin. “You guys involved with all the bombings?”

“All?” the three of us echoed at the same time, making Paine's brows go up.

“Yeah. Lex's, Hailstorm, the Henchmen compound, even Chaz's,” he said, naming off the Mallick family's bar.

Shooter and Breaker shared a look. “Don't know what the fuck is going on around here,” Breaker said honestly. Because while we did know about Janie's part in Lex's house going up in smoke... the rest... yeah that made no sense. “But we have to get out before people start asking questions.”

Paine nodded. “Keep in touch?”

“Yeah. We'll want to know the lowdown as info starts trickling onto the streets,” Breaker said. “Don't go asking for shit and make yourself suspicious, but keep your ears open for us. I'll call you on a new burner soon as we get somewhere.”

“Sounds good,” Pain nodded, clamping a hand on Breaker's shoulder in a show of badass masculine affection. “Take care of yourselves.”

Forty minutes later, we were parked outside of Breaker's. And then we all were heading in. I wanted a change of clothes, Breaker wanted to gather supplies, and Shooter wanted to get a drink.

So, all packed up we drove to the motel. I got my stuff out of my room seeing as I still had the key on me. And I walked out to see both Breaker and Shooter scaring the piss out of Creepy Bob. And I mean that literally. He peed himself. Which might have been funny, but the fact of the matter was, just witnessing them being all badass and scary... well... I was close to wetting myself too.

No joke.

They were terrifying.

“Right,” Breaker said, jerking his head at me, “let's go.”

The car was dead silent for a long time, each of us staring off out the windows, lost in our own thoughts.

Finally, about an hour into the drive, the darkest part of night almost behind us already, I turned slightly in my seat so I was fully facing Breaker and asked him the one thing that had been nagging at me since he had said it.

“Why did you tell Lex I was his daughter?”

I felt Shooter's face snap to me, but ignored him.

“Doll...” Breaker said, his tone implying that I was asking something stupid.

“No. Seriously. I want to know.”

“First, you told me yourself what your mom went through at Lex's hands. How she finally got away to raise you. How terrified she was of someone getting their hands on you. How she killed herself when she saw Lex again so she could protect you both. And, I mean... you look alike. And...”

“And?” I prompted, feeling my heart skip around wildly.

“And your names, doll. His name is Lex. Your name is Alex.”

Holy. Shit.

I never... Jesus Christ... I never even thought of that before. That was weird. But still...

“He's not my father, Breaker,” I said quietly.

To this, his head turned fully to me, his light eyes boring into me, sending shivers down my spine. But, well, the good kind. The kind that kinda made me want to tell him to turn back around so we could pay by the hour at the sleep-and-fuck motel.

“What?”

“He's not my father.”

“You can't know that,” he insisted, barely giving the road a glance as he watched me.

“I do. I know that,” I insisted. “Remember when I said my mom went to the hospital that night and she found a detective who helped her get away?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I mean... I never got confirmation because it was a touchy subject for my mom,” I said, thinking about the time I was seven and asked about my daddy because everyone else talked about theirs and I didn't have one and I was curious. She cried all night asking why she wasn't enough for me. I felt so guilty, I never asked again. But as I got older, I started to see things. “He never stopped coming around. As I was growing up, he always stopped by. Sometimes dropping off groceries because he knew Mom was going through a bad spell. Sometimes he just came by for dinner. Once, he dropped by on Christmas morning. He brought me a pink stuffed piggy. Then he left. Weird things like that. Things that didn't mean anything to me when I was little, but as I got older... it started to make sense. I looked like him, Breaker. Not Lex. I have his same hair. His long legs. His earlobes. And, I mean... his investigative drive,” I said on a small, private smile.