“It’s about time, Guadalupe,” the driver barks and throws his cigarette on the ground. “Get her in the back. We’re late.”
“You don’t want to get near her.” Nana pushes me around the driver. “The b***h vomited all over herself. She stinks.”
I keep my head down and try not to trip as I jump inside the back of the truck. My legs are trembling from the strain of trying to hold myself upright. I duck behind one of the boxes and turn to look at Nana Guadalupe one last time, but the big, sliding door drops down with a bang before I can catch a glimpse. The dark is complete, and a minute later, the engine roars to life.
Sergei
The phone in my back pocket rings. I send the knife I’ve been holding in my right hand flying, then reach for the phone and take the call.
“Yes?”
“The Italians’ shipme
