Ice sat back. He wanted to get out of this hick place and back to a big, thriving, warm city. But he’d hide in the plane until stuff calmed down if he had to. He was surprised that Digger was here. Originally completely loyal to Boss Cross, the guy became Cyrus’s personal man, kind of a valet, shortly after Cross died. Since then, Cyrus rarely went anywhere without Digger. Since Cyrus still had the monitoring anklet on, Royal knew he couldn’t be here. Sending Digger was like being here himself. He also knew that if Digger was in charge here now, Royal would have to accord him the same respect he’d accord Cyrus. That was just how it was. It was the weirdest relationship Royal had ever seen.

Ice had to get to the airport, and he planned to do that without the Camo Man. True, he’d made a mistake getting rid of the cashier too early, but this bearded mountain man was an entirely different situation. It meant nothing to Royal that the guy had saved his life. He knew nothing about the guy and had no plans to sit down and chat about life with him.

He slowly shed his jacket and body armor, grimacing as he took stock of his wounds. In the small bathroom of the mobile he found some antiseptic and bandages for the open wounds. The slash across his cheek was bad—it would leave a scar. Another reason he vowed to go back and hunt those women down. His chest was already a dark-purple bruise, and as he pressed around with his fingertips, he found some very sensitive spots—cracked ribs, most likely. Gingerly he rinsed off in the small shower and cleaned the injuries that were superficial. The warm water felt like heaven, but he knew he had to hurry.

When he finished in the shower, he rummaged through the closet for some clean clothes. He found a shirt and a pair of jeans that fit, which surprised him because the Camo Man was much shorter and stockier. There was also a nice pair of boots and a warm jacket that fit. He helped himself to that as well since his jacket was ruined by pellets, blood, and mud. Whoever did own this place was about his size. About time things started working in his favor. He froze when there was a knock on the door.

Remembering the warning not to open the door, Ice drew his weapon and stood still.

“Blakely, I know you’re in there.”

Pound, pound, pound.

“I’ll call the police. I don’t care if Ron gave you permission to stay here, there is no subletting allowed in the park.”

More pounding.

Ice considered solving the problem once and for all and had begun to move forward slowly when a car pulled up.