Page 18 of Monstrosity

I type her back immediately:

Everything's fine. Stay inside until I get there.

I call Tor while walking toward the shop, keeping one eye on the sedan.

"Yeah?"

"Black sedan, Florida plates, positioned across from Beans & Babes. How fast can you get here?"

"Five minutes. Are the girls with you?"

"In the truck. Two blocks south." I'm moving faster now, hand drifting toward the gun under my jacket. "Just need eyes on this car."

"On my way."

I approach the coffee shop from the side, using other pedestrians as cover.

Through the window, I can see Dasha behind the counter, laughing at something Meghan said.

She looks so normal, so innocent, completely unaware that death might be watching her from across the street.

The bell chimes as I enter, and Dasha's face lights up when she sees me.

The expression is so genuine, so full of warmth, that it physically hurts to know I'm the reason she's in danger.

"Hey," she says, already reaching for her purse. "Just let me clock out and we can go."

"Take your time." I position myself where I can watch the sedan through the window. Still there, still running.

"Everything okay?" Meghan asks, noting my tension. "You look like you're expecting trouble."

"Just tired." I force a smile. "Long ass day."

Dasha reappears from the back room, concern etched across her features.

She knows me well enough to read the signs, even when I'm trying to hide them. "Rio? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." I take her hand, noting how small and soft it feels in mine. "Ready to go?"

She nods, but I can see the questions in her eyes.

Questions I can't answer without admitting that loving me might get her killed.

We leave through the back door, avoiding the front windows.

The sedan is still there when we reach my truck, but as soon as we pull into traffic, it disappears.

"Daddy, why did we go out the back way?" Florencia asks from her booster seat.

"Just felt like a change," I lie, catching Dasha's eyes.

She's studying my expression, trying to figure out what I'm not telling her.

Soccer practice is at the community center, and by the time we arrive, I've spotted at least two more suspicious vehicles in the area.

Either I'm becoming paranoid, or Bembe has stepped up his surveillance significantly.

I text the club group chat while the girls change into their cleats: