#Chapter 144 – Old Friend

Three hours after that, I pull one of Christian’s fancy cars up in the parking lot of Lupa and let out an anxious breath, my hands tight on the wheel. “You’re fine, Bambs,” Frankie murmurs, and I glance briefly down to where he’s tucked himself next to and under the dashboard of the passenger seat, where he can’t be seen through the window. I laugh again, as I’ve been doing for hours now, to see my big tough mafia friend curled up down there with a gun held casually in his hand – a much larger gun than the one he gave me earlier today, which is stowed neatly in my bag. Frankie scowls at me even as he laughs too. “Stop laughing at me,” he murmurs, waving his gun towards my door. “Get a move on so I can stretch my damn legs – honestly, my left foot is numb. We might have to amputate.” “Okay,” I say, honestly feeling lighter than I was a few minutes ago. “You’re going to be fine,” he repeats, and I nod to him subtly before grabbing my purse and stepping out of the car. I loose