Frostbite Read Free Page B

didn’t kill me. This shit too good for that,” she said with a cocky smile as she tapped a fingertip near her clit. “Instead, the fucker threw me in with the rest of ’em bitches and I been on lockdown since.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Hey. Ain’t your fault. The opulence suited me, but I ain’t nobody’s slave. That was some crazy shit you pulled back there to get me out.”
    “Are you thanking me?” I asked.
    “What if I am?”
    We shared a glance as she prepared for my next move. I thought it over rather than succumbing to her blatant charms. Got ready to take a nice cold shower instead. Get my head right ... both of them. “Flight outta here leaves in about four hours. I hope those clothes fit ... and that your size hasn’t changed,” I joked as I prepared for her complaints over designer label versus store brand.
    “I just hope there’s a swimsuit in here.”
    “Huh?” I blurted, sticking my head from out of the bathroom.
    “Oh I’m not ready to leave yet,” Sophia said, an innocent look used as a disguise.

3
     
    “We should go,” I said as I surveyed the surroundings, never one to let down my guard. Not even in these kinds of surroundings.
    “You don’t tell me what to do!” Sophia snapped. Inglewood was strong in every syllable as she voiced her frustration with my playing the mother hen.
    But instead of being in Cali or anywhere else for that matter, we were still in Florida.
    South Beach to be exact.
    Poolside VIP at the W.
    Sophia swatted away my hand as I reached to stop her again. Felt like old times.
    The bad old times.
    When, beyond the sex and chaos, we realized not much else could be there.
    For I was a non-person absent a heart.
    Afrojack had just finished a set this evening. Now Taio Cruz was taking the poolside stage with throngs of bikini-clad senoritas shaking and popping their asses in the cool, refreshing breeze coming off the beach below.
    “Best that we go,” I said again as the bass assaulted our ears and the intoxicated crowd roared.
    “After my captivity? I just want to live a little! Can a sista do that? Huh? Can a sista just live?” she hollered a little too loud for my liking, already a few too many drinks in her, before joining the other women dancing to the music.
    “Which is exactly why we need to go,” I mumbled to no one but myself as I stood there, one of the few people not in high spirits this evening. I didn’t feel comfortable staying around Miami a minute longer, that danger clock steadily ticking—especially after back-to-back jobs—but couldn’t blame her for wanting to cut loose.
    Besides, maybe I was being too paranoid—nerves worn from years of schemes and lies leaving me a wounded veteran. More so, it was of what Sophia reminded me. A time when I’d fooled myself into believing a fairy tale of my own creation. And wound up being caught with my guard down.
    My mind flashed back to the New Mexico desert. Hot sand beneath my broken feet once again. Bullets and blood. Sweaty, out of breath, and my life hanging in the balance. The man learned to be a jackrabbit that day.
    But Sophia could have her fun ... for a little while longer. I just needed to stay busy and not dwell on such things. As I brought up a secure link on my cell, I signaled to the still-dancing Sophia that I had to take a call then left poolside. She was relatively safe and in public view, so her dismissive nod was acceptable.
    Down in the lobby of the W, full of free Wi-Fi signals and everything else coming at a price, I opened a communications line long unused.
    U still out there? I typed, feeling a little foolish.
    U alive? came a response after a long pause. Part of me wished no reply had come. While another part welcomed the once customary banter that I shared with Lorelei Smart, the young woman on the other end of the exchange.
    Appears that way, huh? I typed back.
    Yeah. It’s you. Cocky mofo still. No one else knows to reach me this way. Been years. What up?
    Relax. Just