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The three Bulgarians forced Andre into the backseat of the Jeep and immediately put on some death metal at an eardrum-bursting level. The sounds weren’t helping his withdrawal hangover. He’d never gone this long without a hit of the Dragon. His body felt as though he’d been dragged behind a metro rail train.
“What’s the rush?” Andre shouted to be heard over the music.
“We need to be gone before the cops arrive,” Nikolaj said from the front seat.
“What about Alice’s car?” Andre shouted again. “And what about my bike?” It was the only thing he owned that he hadn’t stolen. He needed it back.
“The cops will find that heap of junk exactly where we left it, in the fence’s garage. And your bike, we don’t give a s**t about your bike,” Nikolaj said and turned the noise up, discouraging any
