Free Hard to Trust by Wendy Byrne Page B

know."
    "I don't know—"
    She didn't have time to finish before the prick of a needle shot something hot and fiery into her veins, bringing everything around her to a standstill. Her head fell forward, followed by her body, before she landed on the floor of the car.

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Jake had lived in Manhattan for a long time, but hadn't explored the neighboring boroughs. As they crossed the bridge into Queens and travelled farther and farther into the places he never knew existed, he had to wonder where they were headed. With his go bag alongside him for reassurance, he tracked her on his phone. "I'll give you directions."
    "What you got there?" the taxi driver asked while looking into the rearview mirror.
    He had to think about the response least likely to generate a lot of questions. "It's one of those apps to track a cell phone."
    "Cool. I heard about that stuff. Just haven't had a chance to see it in action."
    To Jake's relief, the guy didn't press the matter any further. They wove through town in a haphazard pattern, getting stuck in traffic on more than one occasion. The idea she might be in trouble felt like a neon sign pulsing through his brain. He should have anticipated she'd be able to bypass his alarm easily, despite the fact it was the latest and most up-to-date technology on the market.
    If she died on his watch, they wouldn't have to fire him—he'd up and quit on his own. Then again, if she were dirty, more than likely he'd be dead within a few hours. No use worrying about something until he got a handle on the situation.
    Each time he screwed up, he'd see Petrovich's mocking smirk taunting him. Not quite good enough, are you, Jake ?
    First things first. No more dwelling in the past, messing up his thoughts. He studied the landscape as they got into a desolate area. Had he just walked into a trap?
    He pushed back the thought and focused on the tracker. The cabbie did a good job keeping his distance. The signal slowed down for several minutes before stopping about a block away. Given the risk of being discovered, he had to cut the cabbie loose and go in on foot.
    He tapped the back of the front seat. "This is good. I'll walk in from here." After handing the guy his fare along with a healthy tip, Jake got out.
    The guy rolled down his window. "Good luck, man. I hope you were wrong about your woman." He shook his head before mumbling through the open window, "Be careful." Seconds later, he pulled away.
    Jake weaved his way through broken-down buildings while dividing his attention between the steady green line and keeping a bead on his surroundings. With the car's slow pace, he easily jogged along, keeping to the shadows. The car started to crawl as they pulled off the road and into a makeshift driveway. Alongside stood what looked like an abandoned warehouse, nestled beneath the bridge and sheltered from view. He would not have spotted it except for the tracker. Like the rest of the neighborhood, the structure was weathered with sections of the roof missing, along with pieces of siding.
    Two men dragged what looked like a passed-out Tessa into the building. A third man, who appeared to be the one in charge, walked behind them while the driver remained in the car.
    Based on her current condition, she wouldn't be much help—unless she was faking the whole "passed out" thing, but that seemed unlikely. That meant he had to recalculate the odds. Three against one in the warehouse would be a challenge. Without windows, he wouldn't have a clue what was going on inside.
    First he needed to take out the driver. That would eliminate any chance he might step inside either randomly or when he heard the gunfire that was bound to be a result of the uneven odds. Jake wasn't trigger happy but saw no way around it given the circumstances.
    He had to think about escape and work backward from there. Confronting four big dudes with a lousy pistol wasn't going to cut it. Good thing he brought substantial firepower.
    He crept