Malcolm rustled around. “I was just on my way in. They had to leave the motel quickly, and Wolfe left his regular phone but has the burner for this op. They’re in pursuit of Raider right now, and they’ve been driving all night.”

“Pursuit?” She couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah. I’ll explain when I get in.” He clicked off.

She took the phone and just looked at the blank face. Something had gone wrong.

* * *

The drive to the small town of Collinsville, New York, was four hours of Raider’s life he’d never get back. Josh calmly pulled off Interstate 90, driving to the outskirts of town.

None of this made a lick of sense. At any point, Eddie could’ve shot him. Or explained what they were doing. But no, the mob leader had slept the entire way, Josh had driven silently, and Jonny P had stared out the window into the darkness. As a mind fuck, it wasn’t bad. He had to give them props for that.

So, to keep his cool, he watched the world fly by via streetlights outside, tracking his movements. His eyes grew gritty, but no way in hell would he put his head back and rest. Eddie would probably shoot him the second he did so.

The idea of Brigid’s pretty face kept his attention. Her skin was smooth, and her gaze intelligent. He hadn’t had enough time with her, not nearly enough, so he had to survive this. Whatever this was. Most men would be complaining or asking questions, so he purposely kept silent.

If they wanted to play games, he was all in. Being undercover meant that the less he talked, the better. Were Wolfe and Force following?

This was the first time he’d had anybody back him up while undercover. It was his job usually to determine what was needed in every situation, often before the situation arose. Did Force and Wolfe have that instinct? If they did, they were behind him somewhere, tracking his movements.

The earring camera and the belt audio device were still in place, so he could be traced. But if things went south, which seemed likely at the moment, he’d need backup right away.

But he couldn’t turn and look.

Instead, he glanced at his watch to see it was around five in the morning. Dawn should break in about thirty minutes, so if they wanted to bury his body under the cover of darkness, they had miscalculated.

Josh parked the car in front of a motel set away from town that obviously catered to truck drivers, based on the humungous parking area housing at least five of the big rigs. A restaurant, trinket shop, bar, and gas station formed a partial horseshoe around a smaller parking area holding cars. “We’re here.”