They got to the parked car in no time, the rain dispersing the crowd that had gathered around the ruins of the club that had been blown up.
Angelo got into the car and pushed his hair out of his face, the wetness of the rain making black strands stick to his flushed face. Despite this, he made no move to put his hair up, the warmth of the car quickly chasing the heat away.
The rain hadn't let up by the time Nikolai pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket on Davian's turf, windshield wipers going off constantly.
"Sit tight," Nikolai spoke, "I'll get what we need."
Angelo didn't want to get his hair wet again - the rain had also increased in intensity since they left downtown - but he was also a little worried that Nikolai wouldn't remember what to get.
He did as he was told, watching through the streams of water running down his side window as Nikolai dashed through the rain.
