The only option I have is calling Niko. I hope to fuck Lennox is in a charitable mood so the signal doesn’t get blocked beforeI can get any useful information. My leg rocks as the line trills. I try to work out the time difference to know if he’ll answer or not.
But as I’m giving up hope he says, “What’s up, kid?”
I need him to stop calling me that.
“Does the name Vartanov mean anything to you?” I ask.
I can imagine him staring at the wall as he grits, “What did the fuckers do?”
“Nothing. I need to speak to them.”
“Kane, are you safe?” he asks, a keyboard clacking in the background.
“Don’t track me, dickhead,” I snap. My fidgeting gets worse as I pace, fearful of losing him to this place. “I need you to get—” My phone buzzes against my ear and I check the screen.
Lennox:
You have twelve hours.
Fuck!
“Yo, kid, you still there?” Niko’s voice comes through as I stare at my phone.
“Listen, I don’t have time to explain shit. Get them to call me or give me their number. It’s important. I wouldn’t be asking for the fucking fun of it.”
“Easy. I’ve already sent a message to their cunt of a leader.”
“A number, Niko,” I grit, flattening a patch of snow.
“If you’re in trouble, I can help you,” he offers. He has children, a wife. I can’t live with any more guilt. Not when my boy’s grave is right in front of me.
“I need that number,” I whisper. “Please.”
“Okay.” My phone buzzes with the details coming through. “Kane? These aren’t the type of people you can give your loyalty to. You understand what it means to me if you do, right?”
“There’s no loyalty. I’ll never forget everything you’ve done for me. Remember?—”
“If your girl reaches out, I’ll take her to Scarlet.”
I hesitate as I walk further around the house. “Niko?”
“Yeah, kid?”
“Thank you. For everything,” I whisper before ending the call.
Eleven hoursand forty-three fucking minutes of standing in the freezing fucking cold, trying to contact this motherfucker makes me hate the prick. I don’t even know their name. Lennox dropped supplies in the middle of the trees separating the two cabins but none of them included the patience to deal with this shit. What kind of person ignores multiple calls and messages? A neurotic fucking control freak hellbent on having an ego trip, that’s fucking who.
Delilah hasn’t tried to leave the cabin, but her shadow moves across the snow as she walks around the lounge. My pretty girl doesn’t know we’re so close to getting out of this shit. We’ll leverage Rowan’s fear for Helene’s location, I’ll watch my wife kill the cunt, then we’ll…We’ll figure it out once we’re safe.
I pace as my umpteenth call gets disconnected after three rings.
Eleven hours and fifty-one minutes, the cunt calls back. I answer before it can ring for one full repetition.
The voice on the other end is deep, rough, as he asks, “Who is this?”
“You don’t know me,” I rush out. “I know who you’re looking for.”
The background of the call is dead silent, so I stop pacing, leaning against the cabin for warmth as I rub my fingers against my palm to bring the feeling back.
