Page 47 of Switchin' Lanes

“Sounds like you got lucky.”

“Yeah, I’d say.”

“Tell me about your guys.” She smiles. “You’re dating two at the same time or what?”

“Yeah, kind of. We’re all three together,” I explain. “It’s still new, but we all three care about each other deeply.”

“You love them.” It’s a statement, not a question.

My eyes go to hers. “What?”

“The way your eyes sparkle when you talk about them. You love them.”

I let her words sink in. I do love them. I didn’t realize it was so obvious that a complete stranger could see it. We fall into an easy conversation as if we’d been friends forever.

“Oh, good. Greg’s here,” she states. “I’ll be right back.”

I turn to face the computer screen. A white sedan pulls up, parking by the door. The bell rings as he walks in the door. Seconds later, a black van pulls up next to the sedan.

“Fuck,” I mutter. Without another word and as quickly as I can move, I open up the hide-a-hole, crawl in, and close it behind me. I pray to the gods, the universe, whoever is listening, to not let Carlos or his goons find me.

Minutes later, there’s faint shouting coming from the front of the store. Then gunshots. My hand flies to my mouth to stop myself from screaming out. The next thing I know, there’s shuffling in the office. Things are being thrown around and multiple people speaking in Spanish.

“Where the fuck are you,chiquita?” Carlos shouts in his thick accent. “I know you’re here somewhere.”

The footsteps fade away, letting me know they’ve left the office. I stay in the hide-a-way, not wanting to give myself up. I’ll stay here all night if I have to.