Two stayed back as one stepped closer. “Easy, now, love. I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Her thick Cockney accent wore the rough traces of smoke and harder things. “What do you got there?”
“I said stay away!”
“Poor thing’s hurt.”
The other women were circling. Closing in. He was trapped.
“Leave me alone!” Jack shouted, staggering on uneven ground.
“Pfft. I got better things to do,” one woman said, turning away.
The other followed, but paused at the end of the alley. “You comin’, Myrtle?”
She looked at her friends, then back to Jack. “Nah, you go ahead.”
The other women disappeared around the corner.
“You’re hurt. You need?—”
“I don’t need anything!” He spat at her shoes. Red shoes.
“Easy now.” She crept closer. “What’s in the bag?”
“Nothing.”
“Who you running from? Who hurt you?”
“No one.”
“You’re bleedin’ pretty—” When she reached for him, he swung.
She yanked the pillowcases filled with money out of his hand. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…”
“No!” He swung again, clipping her in the jaw just as his feet spun and his legs gave out. His head smacked against the pavement, and a burst of white blinded his eyes. “Don’t…” He couldn’t open his eyes. “Don’t…”
She laughed, her warm breath teasing his face as she whispered, “Timber.”
Jack woke with a gasp, jackknifing out of bed, lungs seizing as if he’d been held underwater. Fists up, prepared to fight.
For three desperate heartbeats, he didn’t know where he was.
Blood on his hands. Blood on the walls.
But as his eyes focused, the suite came into view. No blood. Only silence and shadows and the ghosts of his past.
The Volkov family crest hung on a tapestry across from the bed.
Safe.
Almost twenty years since that night, and it still haunted him.
He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, willing his heartbeat to slow. Sweat slicked his chest, dampened the sheets gathered at his hips. The nightmare clung like smoke, and he shut his eyes, waiting for it to fade.
Jack flinched as a soft knock sounded from the door.
“Good morning, sir.” Nick’s voice preceded his purposeful steps as he moved toward the dressing room. “I’ve sent for breakfast. High protein for a busy day. Poached eggs, smoked salmon, and avocado. Coffee’s on its way.”
Jack didn’t move from the bed. Didn’t trust his legs yet, his bare chest still rising and falling too fast.
