“It’s not just for you. It’s for me as well.”

“But you only need protection because you took me from Mendoza.”

After shifting my bag on my arm, I shook my head at her. “Even if I had left you to die, I would still be a marked man. I helped storm the home of a Rodriguez cartel lieutenant where not only was his latest batch of girls ‘destroyed,’ but there was a substantial amount of money taken as well.”

“I guess I didn’t realize how much risk you had taken on.”

Without realizing that she was probably still skittish when it came to being touched by men, I reached over and brushed a strand of dark hair out of her face. Her green eyes widened, but she didn’t jerk away. “Sorry I had to rain on your little martyr parade.”

She gave a bark of a laugh. “Smart-ass.”

It was good to see her being lighthearted. We were interrupted by the roaring sound of incoming bikes. I jerked my head to the left to see Bishop and Breakneck pulling up to the curb. Following close behind them were two cars.

Even before I was told, I knew which one was for us. It looked to be a mid-to late-1980s Oldsmobile. It was the kind of car you didn’t have to worry about getting stolen because it was so hideous-looking no one would give it a second glance. But the engine sounded good, so it would do its job by getting us back to Georgia.

“Glad to see you guys. For a minute, I thought you had forgotten us,” I said.

Bishop grinned. “Forget your pain in the ass? Never.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered with a smile. “You guys holding back for an hour or two before heading to the border?”

“Yep. Don’t want to draw any unnecessary suspicion,” Bishop replied.

When my gaze cut over to Breakneck, I couldn’t help feeling a slight pang in my chest at the sight of him on my bike. “You take good care of her, okay?”

Breakneck smiled. “Quit wringing your hands like an old woman. I’ve been ridin’ longer than you’ve been alive, you little jerk-off, so get it out of your head that I’m going to fuck up your bike.”

I punched him playfully in the arm. “Thanks, asshole.” Truth be told, I was grateful to see him smiling, period.

“Whatcha think of the car?” Bishop asked Annabel. I knew he was goading her just to get a reaction. He couldn’t seem to let go of the fact that she was an “uptown girl,” as he jokingly called her. He had thought the same thing about our now sister-in-law, Alexandra, when we first met her, but Annabel and her privileged upbringing put even Alexandra to shame.

Although I’m sure she had never ridden in anything that wasn’t brand-new, Annabel smiled sweetly at Bishop. “Looks great. You know, if it’s older than twenty years, you can consider it an antique, and I love antiques.”

Shaking his head, Bishop grinned. “Oh, I do think I’m going to like having you back with us in Georgia, Uptown Girl.”

“High praise indeed,” she replied. Of course, she had no idea that when it came to Bishop, it really was the highest of praise.

“Okay, we should get going,” I said.

As Annabel started to the car, Breakneck said, “I put a pillow and blanket in the back. The moment you get through border check, you need to lie down.”

Annabel whirled around. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I do. And last time I checked, I was the physician here.”

I braced myself for an argument, considering Annabel’s stubbornness, but instead she merely held up her hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll rest.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Another good thing about that car is the wide backseat.”

“Lucky me,” Annabel muttered as she opened the passenger-side door.

Breakneck reached in the pocket of his cut and pulled out a bottle of pills, which he handed to me. “Those are some painkillers in case she needs them.”

“Thanks. I’ll make sure she gets them.”

“There’s enough for both of you in there.”

“I’m fine.” With a smile, I offered him a joke from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. “’Tis just a flesh wound. I’d hardly admit to being shot when I barely got hit.”

Breakneck gave me a no-nonsense look. “You still need to take care of yourself. I know you’re going to be busting ass to get out of Texas, but you’re going to need to stop and stretch your leg some.”

“Okay. I will.”

Breakneck gave a slight nod before sliding his helmet back on.

“See you guys back home sometime this week,” I said.

Bishop nodded. “Be safe, brother. Let us know where you are and how it’s going.”

“Sure thing.” Then I slid into the driver’s seat, where I was blinded by the reflection from a set of sequined dice. “Jesus,” I muttered before removing them and throwing them in the glove box.

“Not exactly your style?” Annabel questioned teasingly.

“Smart-ass.” She smiled at me as I put the car into drive.

We had about a thirty-minute trip to the border. While El Paso and Juárez were separated only by the Paso del Norte bridge over the Rio Grande, both Mendoza’s compound and the hospital had been tucked far away from the city.

At first we drove in silence. When Annabel started to fidget in her seat, I asked, “Nervous about the border crossing?”

She nodded. “A little.”

By the way she was acting, I could tell her obvious fear was about more than just the border. “Tell me what else is bothering you.”