Kanuna had borrowed Samuel’s car for the day – or, rather, he’d found his spare key and taken it from the lot behind the tattoo parlor while his wolf brother was working – and driven to Atlantic City for some errands. The errands included more or less “window shopping” where Kanuna came away with some new clothes he hadn’t paid for and someone else’s credit card that he used to withdraw about $400 in cash. Cash was king, and even if they canceled the card, which he’d tossed into a bin, he’d still have the cash.
He was heading back when he saw a disabled vehicle off to the side of the road give a shudder and spontaneously blow out two tires. Blinking in surprise, Kanuna looped back around to see if he could offer some assistance. Karma for later in case any of the store’s security footage managed to track him down.
He could see that the driver, a woman with blond hair who had her head hanging, seemingly in resignation, was alone and that by itself made Kanuna worried. Not for himself, but for her. Never could tell what kind of person would stop to help a lone woman on the side of the highway. He pulled up so that his car was behind hers and lowered the driver side window.