Page 15 of Twisted Steel
“No.”
“Lucky me.”
Milo, who has apparently ignored every survival instinct he owns, appears beside me with a nervous smile.“Hi.Again.Big fan of not dying last night.”
Steel glances at him.“Did you see the black sedan again?”
Milo’s smile collapses, and my irritation explodes.I turn slowly.“What black sedan?”
Milo’s face goes pale in a way I know too well.The color drains first around the mouth, then his eyes go wide.He knows he’s been caught.
“Milo.”
He clears his throat.“There may have been a car.”
“There may have been?”I raise a brow, demanding answers.
“Outside the station.”
“When?”
“Earlier.”
“How much earlier?”
He looks at Steel like he might rescue him, but Steel doesn’t move an inch or say a single word.Smart man.
“Milo,” I say softly.
He winces.“A few hours ago.”
A cold thread slides down my spine, and I turn to Steel.“And you know about this because?”
His expression doesn’t change.“I followed them.”
The world goes very still.“You what?”
“I followed them.”
“You followed them,” I repeat, because apparently my brain needs to taste the stupidity twice.
“Yes.”
Milo makes a small sound.“This feels like my cue to go upstairs.”
I point at him without looking away from Steel.“You stay right there.”He stops dead in his tracks.
Steel’s gaze flicks toward my building, the street, the alley, every window with a dark square of glass.“You need to go inside.”
I laugh once.“My apartment?That’s rich.I was already going inside before I found a six-foot-five felony outside my building.”
“Six-four.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’re exposed out here.”
“And whose fault is that?”
