“Pretty much,” Mitch said.
“Ah, there’s one more thing,” Alex said, “I owe you both an apology.”
Kathleen frowned. What could Alex possibly be referring to? “Why?” she said aloud.
“I didn’t realize Carlotta was in on it with Bianca and Rocco. I didn’t know Gage was looking into her. I guess I missed that part of the conversation. Anyway, she called me, and I filled her in on Paris and Versailles.”
“Fuck,” Enzo snarled.
“I am so sorry,” Alex apologized again.
“It’s not your fault,” Kathleen offered. “There are a lot of moving parts to this, and you couldn’t have known. I guess that means she’s already at Versailles digging up the treasure.”
“No,” Alex disagreed. “I never gave her a copy of the map. I just told her you had it and figured out what it was a map of. Isaid you didn’t trust sending a picture of it to anyone because it would be a security breach.”
“Smart thinking,” Enzo commented.
“My guess,” Mitch broke in, “is that she will personally be at Versailles along with the people she hired. I don’t think she will have shared that with Bianca and Rocco. Hopefully, they are in Mallorca with Vitale. Once you two get free of Vitale’s men, then we’ll meet you at Versailles. With any luck, we’ll get there first or at the very least outnumber them.”
The pounding on the door started up again, and this time the yelling was a different voice. Kathleen was pretty sure it was a conductor.
“We’ve got to go. See you in Versailles.”
“Good luck,” Alex said.
“Reach out when you arrive at the palace,” Mitch added, and then Enzo killed the call.
After quickly untucking his shirt and unzipping his jeans, Enzo mussed her hair and kissed her hard enough to bruise her lips. “Sorry,” he apologized, right before he opened the door to a red-faced conductor. He grabbed Kathleen’s hand and said, “Je suis désolé, mais faire l'amour dans les toilettes du train était un rêve que, je voulais absolument réaliser. Il fallait que je le fasse.”
The conductor’s mouth dropped open, and he stared as Enzo pulled Kathleen through the car. She glanced back, and the conductor was still staring at them until one of Dominic’s henchmen blocked his view.
“What the hell did you say back there?” she demanded.
Enzo shot a grin back over his shoulder. “I told him sex in the bathroom was a bucket list item for us, and it just had to be done.”
“Oh my God,” Kathleen murmured as heat flooded her face. Kathleen’s cheeks still burned as Enzo pulled her along towardtheir couchette, because the lie worked a little too well for two people who already knew exactly how real it could get.
They entered the couchette, and Kathleen immediately excused herself and went to the restroom down the hall. She glared at the goon watching her at the end of the hallway before she went into the restroom. Then she closed and locked the door.
As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, nausea washed over her. She braced herself on the sink and tried to take deep breaths to ease her stomach and quiet her mind. It was no use. She sat down on the toilet seat and put her head between her knees so she wouldn’t be violently ill. It took a minute, but the nausea finally passed. She stood and splashed water on her face.
It was too much. She’d spent too many years under the watchful eye of someone. First, it was her boyfriend who turned out to be a mobster, and then it was WitSec and the Marshals. Spencer was the only good thing in that episode of her life. For more years than she could count, almost her son’s entire life, she’d lived under someone’s watchful eye, and it had damn near killed her.
Then Jamie and the Callahans had rescued her and Connor. Saved them both from a life of secrets and fear.
Now she was right back there again, and it was taking its toll on her. She wanted to run down the hallway screaming at the top of her lungs and then beat the ever-loving shit out of the goon who stood on the opposite side of this door.
Hell, she’d even slept with yet another mobster. Enzo may be Jamie’s friend, and he may claim to be retired, but that didn’t change who or what he was. He seemed like a good man, but she’d met one of those before. To give Enzo his due, it wasn’t fair to compare him to Giuseppe. She’d been an idiot to ever get involved with him. Nothing about him was good. She’d just been too blind to see it.
Enzo wasn’t like that. He seemed to genuinely care about Jamie. He was concerned for her. Still, it wouldn’t do to forget who and what he was, because in the end it always came down to a choice, and this time she did not want to be on the losing end.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Enzo sensed the subtle deceleration of the train, which made his pulse kick harder instead of easing. Paris Gare du Nord loomed ahead; crowded, chaotic, and crawling with opportunities to die badly if he miscalculated. And not just for him. Every decision he made from here on out affected Kathleen as well. His gut knotted, and a fine line of tension tightened across his shoulder blades. He could not let the worst-case scenario happen. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Kathleen got hurt. He couldn’t bear it.
Outside the couchette door, boots shifted. In the six hours of the journey to Paris, Dominic’s men hadn’t moved from the ends of the hallway since Nice. They stomped past as they rotated positions, whispered, and leaned against the corridor wall across from the entry to their accommodations like bored commuters. They talked loudly, letting the occupants know of their ongoing presence. Each time he or Kathleen cracked open the door, the thugs were still there. Dominic himself hadn’t reappeared since the dining car. He wouldn’t lower himself to do the actual stalking. His presence alone was pressure enough, or so he thought.
But they moved now. He knew they were just on the other side of the door. Dominic was with them. They wouldn’t risk losing him and Kathleen. Vitale would have their heads if they did, quite literally. He’d beheaded someone before according to the rumor that raced like wildfire through every family. Maybe he was learning from his cartel friends.
