Floored by Ainslie Paton Page B

is my issue if it’s drug money.” Of course it was drug money. But twenty-one grand… And no one said she had to come back to Sydney. This was a chance to move states, get further outside Justin’s reach and be paid a fortune for it. In drug money. She sighed. She obviously couldn’t do it. “You’d have to pay all expenses. Petrol, accommodation, meals.”
    “That’d be part of the deal.”
    She turned to him. “You’re not serious?”
    “I am deadly serious. Let’s call it twenty-five grand serious.”
    Her throat was so dry. No more coffee left. Twenty-five grand. That was close to half her expected annual salary for two weeks of driving and the hire of her Statesman. Could she spend two weeks with Australia’s Most Wanted ? Of course not . Why did this kind of thing keep happening to her? This was beyond ridiculous.
    “I want you out of my car right now.”

8: Negotiation
    “I’m not getting out of the car, Driver. You don’t want me to do that.”
    Fetch could see she did though. She really did. She was edged away from him, all the way across the front seat, her hat pushed down low over her sunglasses.
    He’d been so glad to see her get back in the car and away from that fucking Red Pariah ogre, he’d wanted to cheer. It was his signal to leave the house. Half of him wanted her to simply speed away, leave him there and not look back. He’d have Stud find her and put a protection detail on her, till he could get clear and protect her himself. The other half of him knew that wasn’t good enough. She was even more vulnerable now, and he’d done that to her. A protection detail was a half-arsed thing. He needed to set it right. Plus if she’d driven away he’d have copped a beat down. And it would’ve hurt. Fucking bad .
    Red wasn’t an auditor. He wasn’t there to make nice. He was there to make sure Fetch went down for some doublecross he couldn’t yet work out. All the better if Fetch wasn’t able to walk or talk about it too. The knife had been a pleasant surprise. It might’ve been a gun. Probably the same weapon that’d done for Milo and his missus. Meant it hadn’t been tossed, and wasn’t that careless.
    “Apart from the fact you think I’m a dodgy bastard who’s up to no good, what have you got against me, Driver?”
    “You do not expect me to answer that.”
    “Yeah, I do.”
    She gave him stony silence and the back of her head to look at. Her hair was dark like his. He could see it now, drawn up tight under the hat.
    “I’m not what you think. I’m one of the good guys.”
    She made a sound of disapproval and disbelief, and took a bite of pie.
    At least he’d scored a win on the pie. “I can’t tell give you the details.”
    “It’s complicated—you told me.” She was so pissed off.
    “Yeah. The less you know about me the better.”
    “You’re not good at this sales pitch business are you?”
    “I thought I was doing okay, I mean under the circumstances.”
    “You’re probably septic by now. We’re still at get out of my car. And you think that’s doing okay?”
    Shit she had spunk. “I like you, Driver.”
    She did the glare thing again. “I’d like you too. More and more in direct proportion to how far away from me you are.”
    His arm was aching, it needed stitching. He also needed to call Stud again but she was right, he wasn’t doing well at this. Kidnap would be so much easier. He could see its appeal.
    “So I guess you have a better way to earn that kind of money?”
    “My way includes not doing anything illegal, and not going to jail.”
    He laughed. He had no ID, he looked like a disaster, and she’d seen enough over the last two days to be deeply suspicious, without factoring in the rumble with the Red enforcer. At this point, if he said he was an undercover cop she’d probably yell rape. “It’s hard for me to prove to you this isn’t illegal.”
    “No kidding.”
    He laughed again. She wasn’t trying to be funny. The part of her