Thursday. Slough, United Kingdom.
VALENTINO SQUEEZED THE STOLEN car between two others at the curb. If a cop came by, she'd likely get a ticket, but the reality was that she didn't want to return to this car.
"We're here," she said.
Viggo didn't so much as grunt.
Had he passed out?
She leaned over him in the passenger seat, taking in how pale he was. If it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, she'd be worried.
"I'm getting help. Just hang on." She unfastened the seatbelt and got out of the car, drawing the hood of her jacket up to cover her face.
She had nothing to go on except a referral. She hated not knowing what to do or where to go, but they hadn't planned for either of them getting wounded. Normally she might be willing to chance a hospital visit, but not now. Not with the cops following her so closely. Which meant they needed an alternative. Something that was safe for people like them.