Page 13 of The Mobster’s Daughter (Massachusetts Mafia #2)

“I don’t know. The lady at the convenience store, maybe?

Or somebody in the family has a big mouth.

” The possibility of someone in the family betraying him, betraying the boss’s daughter , was almost unthinkable.

If that was the case, once Sean found out, whoever it was wouldn’t live to see an other day.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“We’re going to get out of here.” He pulled her close. “You stay close to me and do as I say. Un derstand?”

Caitlin nodded . “Y-yes.”

“Come on,” he said. “We’re going out the back door. The Bronco is unlocked. You move your ass as fast as you can, get in the backseat, close the door, and s tay down.”

Walking through the kitchen, Grady caught another glimpse of the lights outside, three of them about twenty feet apart, less than fifty yards from the cabin. For all he knew, there were more people waiting outside, people he couldn’t see, lying in wait for him and Caitlin to ma ke a move.

He pushed off the safety of his gun and opened the door. Grady waited on the top step, off to one side. He looked left, then right, counted to three, then whispe red, “Go!”

Caitlin darted outside, down the steps, yanked open the back door of the Bronco, and dove inside. The slam of the door echoed through the small valley. The lights moving toward the cabin turned in unison toward t he Bronco.

As Grady stepped off the porch, a gunshot shattered the silence of the night.

He ducked and lunged for the driver’s side door.

He opened it and climbed in. He hit the button to start the Bronco.

The headlights came on automatically. Shouting filled the night air, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

He put the SUV in reverse and backed away from the cabin. Caitlin screamed.

“Fuck,” Grady muttered. He put his palm on the wheel and spun it, turning the car 180 degrees.

He hit the accelerator, and the tires spun, leaving a cloud of dust behind them as the vehicle roared down the road.

Caitlin cursed as she bounced around the backseat, hitting her head on the door and falling to the floor.

The Bronco nearly toppled over as he took the corner onto the paved road leading back to town.

He glanced in the rearview mirror. A light blue sedan trailed behind them by a hundred yards.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know his way around well enough to lose them.

Once they got to Sharon, he thought he might s hake them.

Grady opened the glove box and tossed papers on the floor until he found what he wanted. An old, beat-up flip phone. He flipped it open, hit the number five button, and waited for somebody to answer. It didn’t take long.

“Grady? Why are you calling me? What ’s wrong?”

“I need your hel p, Dante.”

“What kind of help?” his friend of over thirty ye ars asked.

“The kind I can’t discuss over the phone,” he replied. “Where are you? Because I’m comin g to you.”

Dante grunted. “Understood. Remember where we went after the game against Worcester? Senior year, with the Alba ny twins?”

“Yeah,” G rady said.

“Good. I need some time. How far out are you?”

He checked the clock on the console. “I don’t know. Not far. How long do you need?”

“Eighteen to twenty-four,” Dant e replied.

“Will do. I’ll find someplace to hole up. When we leave, I’ll call wit h an ETA.”

“Sounds good,” his friend replied. “Listen, when you get there, park along the street, under some trees. Stay in the shadows. If something happens before you arrive, call me. I’ll call you if anything g oes down.”

The phone went dead in Grady’s hand. He tossed it in the cup holder and checked the rearview mirror. The light blue sedan was still back there, though it was several cars back; that would work to his advantage.

“Who was that?” Caitlin asked from the back seat. “On t he phone?”

“An old friend,” Grady answered. “He’s going to help us.”

“Can I ge t up now?”

“Not yet,” he said. “We’re being followed, and I want to lose th em first.”

“Shit,” sh e mumbled.

When they reached Sharon, he was careful to keep his speed down.

The last thing he needed was some hick cop pulling him over and getting them killed.

He changed lanes and noticed the sedan did as well, though there were still two cars between them.

Grady eased off the accelerator and kept his eye on the stoplight a hundred yards in front of them.

It was green. He increased his speed and glanced at the countdown on the walk signal. Te n seconds.

There were no cars in front of him. He tapped the brake, slowing as they approached the green light.

The light changed from green to yellow. Grady hit the brake again, as if he planned to stop.

He checked the two cars behind him that were also slowing and coming to a stop.

He inched forward, counted to three, and just as the light changed from yellow to red, he hit the gas and flew through the intersection.

He made a quick right, a left, then anot her right.

The blue sedan was nowhere to be seen. He glanced in the review mirror at Caitlin crouched in the backseat.

“You can get up now, ” he said.

She huffed loudly, then deftly climbed into the front seat beside him, put her gun in the glove box, and buckled her seatbelt. When she was done, she folded her shaking hands in her lap and stared out t he window.

“So, where are we going?” she asked.

“I have a friend who can help us,” Grady said. “He has no ties to either family. He’s neutral.”

“What makes you think he’ll help us?”

“Because we’re friends,” he explained. “And he owes me.”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll help us. Can’t we go somewh ere else?”

“It’s not open for debate,” he snapped. “Someone found us when they shouldn’t have. Those men had night-vision goggles, guns, everything necessary to kill you. Kill you, Caitlin. And probably me. I need to find out how the hell they found us.”

“Okay, okay,” she muttered. She crossed her arms and stared out t he window.

“That’s it? That’s all you hav e to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” she snapped. “Christ, I don’t want to think about any of this, let alone talk about it. I want all of this to just go away.”

Grady tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

Just when he thought she was taking things seriously, she showed her true self.

Typical Caitlin. Ignore the problem like it doesn’t exist. Pretend everything was fine.

It drove him crazy. He couldn’t wait for this nightmare to end and things to go back to normal.