CHAPTER SEVEN
Max parked in front of a two-story brick house with a beat-up red Honda in the driveway.
Leslie clutched her purse. “Where are we?”
“My partner’s place.” Max secured the g*n in his pocket. “You going to be nice?”
“What choice do I have?” She rolled her eyes. “You pulled a g*n on me.”
“I had no choice.” He opened his door.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Everything will be okay. Just trust me.”
She scoffed, blaring the passenger door open. “That’ll be the day.”
Max got out the car and Leslie followed him to the cluttered front porch. He moved the broken bike out the way and rang the doorbell. “I can always depend on this dude when I need something.”
“Can he depend on you?”
Max glared at her as the door opened.
A tall, bone-thinned Jewish man with a giant,
