Free Neil (The Uncompromising Series Book 2) by Sybil Bartel

don’t have a half hour.” The parking lot would start to fill up the closer it got to lunchtime.
    “Go to the office.”
    “Um… that’s probably a bad idea.” I was already asking too much by involving him. I couldn’t risk his business too. Someone was going to come looking for all that hardware and Conner and I needed to be as far away as possible when they did.
    “Jesus, chica .” I could practically see him rub his hand over his head.
    “I’m sorry.”
    André exhaled. “It’s okay. Give me a minute. I’ll call you back.” He hung up.
    It was the longest minute of my life. Conner fussed, my mind raced, and I thought of every scenario that could’ve happened with the police and I started to freak, like seriously, freak .
    My cell buzzed and I answered immediately. “Hi.”
    “Six minutes. Sit tight.”
    “I’m—”
    André stopped me. “I know. We’ll talk later.”
    Before I could ask how he knew where I was, I remembered him telling me he tracked all his employees for safety reasons. Cell phones or vehicles, I didn’t know which, and right now, I didn’t care, I was just grateful. “Okay. And I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call.”
    “All good. Five more minutes. You need me to stay on the line with you?”
    “No, it’s okay.”
    “Copy that. Later.” He hung up.
    I cradled my phone and bounced my knee for four more minutes. No one showed. Too edgy to wait there another second, I started the Land Cruiser up again. It turned over and a huge truck pulled up beside me.
    I didn’t think it was possible, but my pulse ratcheted up a notch.
    Viking got out and glanced around the parking structure. Unbelievably austere, he took two steps and opened my door. “Leave it running. Get in the truck.” He didn’t raise his voice or sound pissed but he also didn’t look at me, not my eyes, not me, not even a glance in my direction.
    “Conner,” I squeaked.
    “I will get him.” He continued to scan the parking garage. “Get behind the wheel. Now.”
    I did exactly what he told me to do.
    One minute later, Conner was buckled in the same car seat Viking had before and the diaper bag was beside him. Looking as shell-shocked to see Viking as I was, Conner didn’t let out a peep.
    Viking put his hand on the truck and looked at me for the first time. “Were you followed?”
    His eyes were the color of the parking garage—cold and gray. I shook my head, too afraid to speak.
    “What am I dealing with?”
    I shrunk a foot in the seat and whispered, “Three crates of guns.”
    He didn’t even blink. “Make?”
    “Assault rifles, like the kind soldiers use.”
    “Did you touch any of them?”
    I shook my head. “Just the one crate closest to the back.”
    “Stolen?”
    “I don’t know.” I sucked in a deep breath then exhaled in rush. “My ex showed up this morning and asked to take Conner to the beach. We switched cars. A few hours later, I got a call from the cops saying he was being arrested for a traffic infraction. When I picked Conner up, the crates were in the back.”
    Lines formed between his eyes. “Drive straight to Luna’s. No circling. Park in the garage. Luna’s second-in-charge is waiting.” Viking stepped back.
    Oh God. “Tyler knows too?”
    Viking paused and met my worried gaze. “No one knows anything except Tanner was arrested. Say nothing,” he ordered.
    “I won’t.” I started to put the window up.
    “Ariella,” he barked.
    I glanced up and his expression this time was clear as day. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, jaw set—he was pissed as hell.
    “Do not hang up on me again.”
    I wanted to disappear into the seat or apologize about a thousand times but Viking wasn’t someone you said I’m sorry to. In his world, I was pretty sure if you had to apologize, you shouldn’t have done what you did to begin with. Not that it mattered if I did want to say I was sorry. He was already in my Land Cruiser with three crates of my problems, pushing the