Risk and Rebel

49: SOMETIMES PLANS CHANGE

 Rebel was the only one who got out at the convenience store. I remained in the passenger's seat of the car, fingers thrumming impatiently across one of the guns in my lap as I surveyed our surroundings with rigid posture. Slick was in the back of the car, Outlaw's head in her lap — and Outlaw had become eerily pale.

When Slick spoke up, my free hand flexed, the threat of telekinetic usage looming until her words fully registered in my mind. "She can't fight like this."

My teeth dug into my bottom lip with a little too much pressure; I tasted blood. My eyes narrowed on the door of the convenience store, glaring at it as though it were responsible for Outlaw's injury. "No one expects her to."

"You know what I mean, Risk," Slick said, even quieter now.

I sighed softly and remained unmoving. "Yeah. I do." My jaw flexed, mind whirring. I took a moment of silence to mentally count to ten in effort to calm and reorient myself. "What's your plan?"

"My ex is one of the police officers in town," she relayed to me, caution evident in her tone. "We met while I was under deep cover ... he thinks my name is Estrella. He never wised up to anything other than that I was lying to him about my job, why I was in London ..." She paused. "He'd be a safe place to stay. Specifically for Law."

I shifted in my seat, just enough to see Slick's face, the convenience store still visible in my peripheral vision. "How much would you have to tell him?"

Her gaze dropped to Outlaw, who was now murmuring a Gaelic tune under her breath with eyes shut, their hands intertwined. "Not as much as you may think," Slick relayed, looking back up at me. I recognized the sobriety in her eyes; the sincere devotion to keeping her partner alive. "He already knows I'm bulletproof." Her voice dropped in volume, and I almost missed what she added; "If only that had been more helpful this time ..."

"I'm going to choose not to ask how he knows that," I decided aloud. I turned to face forward again, and though I let the silence stretch for a few seconds, my mind was already made up. "Okay. We'll drop you off at his house — apartment, whatever — after this."

Slick didn't say anything more, but she didn't have to. I understood she was relieved, and I had no desire to push her to discuss those emotions. Both because I was pretty sure she didn't want to, and because I was more than confident that I didn't want to. The quiet that we lapsed into wasn't uncomfortable, and soon enough Rebel was emerging from the store with a first aid kit and plastic shopping bag in hand. He handed off both items to me once he was in the car, and without looking I extended the first-aid kit to Slick before beginning to look through the plastic bag.

It's contents made more sense to me than the first aid kit did, in all honesty. I handed back the bottle of hydrogen peroxide (also without looking), as Rebel pulled out of the parking space and began to drive. I only spoke up once he picked up speed; "We need to make a stop."

"What kind of stop?" he asked, arching a brow at me and granting me a brief glance before returning his full attention to the road.

"Slick," I deflected, whilst handing her a package of needles, coupled with a small packet of silk-thread.

"Why don't you just hand me the whole shopping bag, Risky?" Slick asked in evident exasperation (which I pointedly ignored). She let out a huff when she realized I was ignoring her. "My ex's house, Rebel. Outlaw can't ... she can't fight. And I'm not just going to leave her somewhere like this."

I watched Rebel as he processed through what Slick had said, his brow furrowing ever-so-slightly before he actually glanced my way. His green eyes weren't as dark as usual, which I recognized as a good sign. "All right. Where?"

When I looked back to hand Slick the tweezers, she was smiling. It was a very small and nearly sad smile, but it was a smile all the same. A smile tipped my own lips as I leaned back in my seat. Slick relayed the directions to Rebel almost on automatic, and for a moment I wondered how deep undercover she had been with this guy. But I didn't say anything; instead I pulled out the energy drink Rebel had bought. I popped the tab and took a long sip, before I offered it up to him.

He accepted it fluidly and took a shorter sip before handing it back to me. "How long should that take?"

"Around ten minutes. Less with your driving," Slick answered.

"Realistically," Rebel said, "my driving is hardly at the level of Risk's."

"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment," I retorted, taking another long sip of the energy drink immediately afterwards. I poked a finger Rebel's way; "You have the phone," I said, in reference to he and I's device; "Have you heard anything more about Snag?"

Rebel nodded. "She just met up with the rest of them. We'll be heading their way, after ..." He nodded toward the rearview mirror.

I nodded and took one more sip before offering him the energy drink once more. "Good. Because I'm sick of screwing around on the sidelines."

Only I could see Rebel's smile, and I knew it well. It was irrefutably devious; a flash of pearly whites that seemed to suggest he was more predator than man. It reached his eyes and lit them in such a way that they seemed to glow like smoldering emeralds. "Good thing we're heading for the heart of the war, then."