“Smart man.” I reach over and hit send. Done. Mercs are off my back—for now.
My phone vibrates. It’s Dmitri.
Jack hit the Crown Diner, now at Atlantic Terminal, buying another burner. Heading west again.
Stay on him. Do not engage.
Copy.
I lean my hip against the table, eyeing Marek.
“So, Jack initiated the hit a week before the park,” I say. “The Ferryman brokered. Two streams of money. A hit on me public enough for the papers to notice. Another order to deliver Teresa breathing.” Saying her name in this room feels wrong.
He nods once. “I told you, we don’t ask why. Part of the job. Now, can I go?”
I reach into his back pocket, take out his wallet, and flip it open. There’s a photo of a child scowling in a school uniform, a woman’s hand just visible in the corner. I set the wallet down where he can see it. Marek played it smart tonight; his kid still has a father.But now he needs to do the right thing and get the hell out of town, wife and kid in tow.
“Get in your car,” I say. “Drive to JFK. Fly out of the country. Send for your family. If I hear you’re back in New York, we’ll have a replay of tonight, but next time, it won’t end so nicely for you.”
I cut the zip ties. The snow has gone from white to gray, that awful New York winter slush. Marek hurries toward a Corolla parked nearby then he’s gone.
I step over to the building that Marek walked out of. His boys are laughing at something, oblivious to the fact that their hitman careers are likely over. Truth is, they’re lucky they’re still breathing.
These are the people responsible for the attack on Teresa and me in Central Park. And if I hadn’t sweet-talked Marek tonight, they’d still be after me. But at the end of the day, they’re not worth the hassle.
Besides, I’ve got Jack to focus on. And whoever the hell he’s working with.
I text Dmitri.
Keep a tail on Jack. But we’re done for the night.
Copy.
I stand in the alley long enough to let the cold erase any residual anger. I’m soon back in my Escalade, warm and dry.
I have a lot to think over. What I learned from Marek is more than enough to work with.
As far as Jack goes… he’s about to learn some hard goddamn lessons.
CHAPTER 32
TERESA
A few days later…
It’s too quiet. I’ve been staying busy with work, but the other night keeps playing on a loop in my brain. The crunch of footsteps in snow, the sharp white flash, the way Vlad took life after life.
I don’t know how to feel about it.Or rather, I don’t want to admit that I feel safer knowing he’d kill for me. Part of me hates it, while another cherishes it.
I move my little rosemary plant for the third time, sliding it half an inch on the windowsill. The smell helps. So does the ginger tea Dmitri left me. Sometimes I feel like I’m in a luxury hotel instead of a penthouse prison.
I take a sip and rest my hand over the slight curve of my stomach. It makes me feel anchored, reminding me of the little life growing inside.
Then there’s the matter of Trina. We haven’t talked since our last conversation. Is what Jack told her true? Is Vlad not what heseems? She told me all I have to do is ask for help.I don’t even know how to wrap my head around all of it.
The elevator hums and my chest tightens. Vlad stands there, snow clinging to his coat, tie loosened, hair damp. The cold follows him inside.
“Hi,” I say softly.
