“That looks bad,” Cian pants as he rests against the park gate next to me. “How does it feel?”
“Right now? Like I’m holding my wrist in a pan of flaming oil.”
“Hm. This isn’t part of some grand plan, is it?” Cian just can’t keep from voicing his suspicions.
“What?” I squint up at him as the morning sun rises behind his head.
“This escape. Is it all part of some kind of plan to make me trust you again or something?” When I don’t answer, Cian grunts. “You’re fucking Interpol, Faina, so what’s the point in you running?”
“Notanymore,” I correct sharply. “Look, I get you’re pissed off. I get this detour has taken us way off course and Hawk could be anywhere by now, but let’s get one thing straight, okay? We all have a fucking past and I’m not going to stand here and let you judge me for something I was forced into, okay? Y’know, for a criminal, your morality is fucking skewed.”
“Oh yeah?” Cian pushes up off the gate and glares at me. “How’d you figure that?”
“Because you were shitting on Richard for choosing weapons over human trafficking. Did you forget that I had a hand in that too, under the Russians before Anastasia? You can look past that when you look at me, but you can’t look past the cops?”
“It’s not because you’re a cop.”
“Were,” I correct with a groan while the pain in my wrist flares. “Then what is it, huh?”
“You were a spy and a liar, Faina! I can’t trust you!”
We’re going to spend hours arguing in circles at this rate and I’m too tired. Exhausting myself right now to get him to believe me just isn’t going to work so I roll my eyes and turn away while trying to focus on the positives.
We’re free, for now.
We have to get out of here.
Oh… and I have to find a way to tell him I’m pregnant although something tells me he won’t believe that anytime soon. Despite the tense silence between us, Cian doesn’t leave, which means even though he’s furious with me, he understands our best chance is still together.
“Look.” Sighing, I turn back to him. “While I was in my cell, I overheard one of the guards talking about Serenity. And when I faked a bathroom emergency because for some reason every man in Europe freaks out about periods, I was able to snatch some time on a computer.”
That catches Cian’s attention and he turns to face me, his brow raised. “And?”
“Serenity is a super yacht. I knew it was familiar to me but I couldn’t place it and it was bugging the fuck out of me. I saw it back when we were shifting through the shit from that general, the one you found documents on about Africa.”
“Shit…” Surprise spreads across Cian’s face and he groans softly. “No wonder the fucker’s been hard to track. He travels the world by sea. Not air.”
“Exactly. Although I have no clue where to go from here.”
“You know…” Cian rubs at his jaw, stroking his thickened beard. “I might actually know someone who can help.”
After stealing a car, we drive through the city and make one stop at a pharmacy for items to help me patch up my wrist. Cian returns with a host of medical supplies and a phone he swiped from a customer. Then he silently drives us deeper into the city until he finds a quiet outcrop of buildings next to an overlook where the beautiful city spreads out beneath us. There,he immediately jumps onto the phone while I set about patching up my wrist.
A few butterfly stitches and a strong wad of gauze later and my wrist is wrapped up securely. Despite the constant sharp, burning pain that flares every single time I move even a finger, I can’t risk the painkillers. Studying the pamphlet alerted me to some very key words.
Don’t take if pregnant or breastfeeding.
Dealing with the pain is all I can do. Then I relax in the car and flick through several radio stations until I find one with the news detailing the crash. In their words, the driver of the van was found dead at the wheel with no mention of the two guards up front with him. The driver of the truck is in critical condition in the hospital. Not great but better than dead. I listen for the better part of an hour until Cian wanders back from the tree line tapping the phone against his palm.
“You get anything?” I ask, leaning out of the open passenger door and watching him.
Cian sighs and nods. “I called my contact and he found Serenity.”
“Where is it?”
“Its last recorded docking was in Egypt.”
My back straightens. “So you were right about Africa.”
