“Dominic,” Rafael says in a knock-it-off tone.
“It’s a fair fucking question,” Dominic insists.
“It is a fair question,” I admit. “But I’m sure.”
“Okay,” Dominic says and settles back like that’s the end of it.
“Who’s in the other van?” I ask.
Noah says, “Some of Dominic’s men. They’re going to help us. And so is Dante.”
The man beside Noah says, “He doesn’t remember me. I can tell.”
I look more closely. I can’t see much in the faint light, but I remember the glimpse I had when the interior light was on: dark eyes, a sharply handsome face, a cold stillness.
An image flashes through my mind: a boy who always sat in the corner, silent and watching.
I let the image fade, but I don’t white it out. I don’t white anything out. I just sit with it in the quiet of the van. We all do.
Then we start laying out our intel. My signal on Elias has gone still, and we match it up with the satellite imagery of the Valenci estate and cross reference Noah’s notes from talking to Elias. Elias isn’t in the main house. He’s in what he referred to as his father’s “hunting lodge” deep in the property. He said he’d never been there, that it was his father’s private space.
We don’t discuss what that means, though we all know what places like that are for.
But Noah says, “That doesn’t mean anything will happen to Elias there. And it’s better that he’s not in the main house. This is easier to attack. So let’s figure it out.”
We discuss options. At one point, Wes says from the driver’s seat, “There’s a rocket launcher under Dante’s feet. If that helps.”
Rafael huffs a laugh. “Where were you the last several times we needed you?”
“I travel a lot,” Wes says. “And I work alone.”
“With a rocket launcher?” Rafael asks wryly.
Wes’s eyes flick up to the rearview mirror. “I prefer to work from a distance.”
“That doesn’t exactly answer my question,” Rafael complains.
“You didn’t exactly ask one,” Wes points out.
“Ooh, I like him,” Rafael says.
Dominic reaches between Rafael’s legs and grabs his balls. “Stop fucking flirting with him. You’re the goddamn worst, Rafael.”
Rafael leans into Dominic and nips the side of his neck. “Stop teasing me.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dante mutters. “Knock it the hell off, both of you.”
Things quiet as we get closer. I’m still calm. I still don’t know why. But I figure it out when we get to where we’re going to leave the vehicles and everyone gets out.
I’m not alone. And these men … I trust them. Even Wes. Especially Wes, in spite of our fight—or maybe because of it. I triggered him, and he still helped me. He’s actually been helping me, I think, all along.
But it’s Noah who’s brought all of us together. He’s brought these men to me, to help me tonight. And even if they’re actually doing it for him instead of for me, it doesn’t really matter. They’re here.
And … Rafael did offer to help me two years ago. As for Noah, he’s always been here, even if I didn’t let myself see it.
This has always been available to me.
Wes drags out his crates from under the benches. He throws open the lids, revealing the promised rocket launcher, plus grenades, handguns, rifles, and drones. Everyone is already armed but grabs extras from the boxes. Dominic’s men look distinctly mafia, but they seem to know what they’re doing as they choose rifles and grenades.
