“Stop it,” Chad hissed, slapping Romeo’s hand back by his side.
Romeo huffed.“It’s itchy.”
Chad pouted.“I’m sorry I couldn’t find super-soft balaclavas for your delicate face.”
“Chad...”
“Romeo.”
Even in the dark, Chad shuddered at his glare.There were only three holes in Romeo’s mask, two for his eyes, currently narrowed, and one for his mouth, pressed in an unhappy line.
Chad would never admit that he found his own balaclava itchy at hell too.
It was a necessary evil when keeping one’s identity secret.
They were dressed head to toe in black, all items of clothing indistinct.Romeo had taken off his gloves, complaining of sweaty palms and cramping fingers.
He promised he’d put them back on once they arrived at their destination.
Chad couldn’t help but remind him every few minutes not to forget.
It was important though.
Everything had to go as planned.
Romeo had wanted to drive, but Chad had shot that idea down.
There were too many cameras trained at the road and once investigators realized they had a murder case on their hands, they’d follow the camera trail, adding pressure to their escape.
Chad had seen it happen before.
Criminals panicked when under pressure.They ditched and stole cars on a daily basis, resulting in more CCTV and witnesses, and eventually a standoff once they’d exhausted themselves and law enforcement had caught up.
It didn’t take them long, unless you made it more difficult.
No road.No car.No sunlight.
Instead, they walked along a beach in the dead of night with only the stars for company, and the gentle lap of the sea to break up their excited heartbeats.
Romeo lifted his hand to scratch his chin.
“Romeo...”Chad warned.“When you pull that thing off in a few minutes, I don’t want to be distracted by a red raw rash across your face.”
“What do you want to be distracted by?”
Chad smiled.“My husband looking hot as hell.”
Romeo laughed, knocking his elbow into Chad’s.
Michael Hastings lived along the coast in Abruzzo, Italy.It wasn’t as popular with tourists as other regions, but there was a community of Brits who retired there, enjoying the Mediterranean climate.
The sun, the sand, the peace.
It was beautiful.
Michael’s villa in particular was stunning.
It had sea views and backed onto a beach with golden sand.
