He bounces a little in the seat. “Really?”
“Really.”
I find parking in the underground garage—level B2, far corner, away from the main entrances. The Accord blends perfectly with the rows of commuter sedans. I kill the engine. Check the mirrors. No tails. No loiterers.
Landon is already unbuckling.
I reach over, catch his chin gently between thumb and forefinger, turn his face to mine.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Whatever happens today—whatever you see, whatever you hear… you stay close. You do exactly what I say. No questions. No hesitation. Understand?”
His smile fades a little, but he nods.
“I understand.”
I lean in and kiss the boy—slow, deliberate, tasting coffee and marmalade and the faint sweetness that is simply him.
When I pull back his pupils are dilated and his smile is wide.
“Let’s go watch something loud and stupid,” I mutter. “Nothing gangster. No guns. No pain. No drama.”
Landon laughs—bright, relieved—and grabs his backpack.
We walk toward the escalators together, hand in hand. We must look like any other couple on a weekday morning.
And for the next two hours, at least, that’s exactly what we’ll pretend to be…
The movie lets out just after noon. The multiplex is still quiet—midweek, early showings don’t draw crowds—and most of the people who were inside have already scattered to the food court or decided to do some shopping.
Landon walks beside me with his arms folded tight across his chest and his lower lip pushed out in the most exaggerated pout I’ve seen since we left the penthouse.
He’s been sulking since the credits rolled.
It looks like the bratty side of his Little-self has come out to play…
“I still think we should have stayed for the double feature,” Landon mutters for the fourth time as we step through the glass doors into the underground garage. “That second movie lookedreeeeeallygood. And we don’t have anywhere else to be right now.”
I keep my tone even. “We’re not staying. We don’t stay in one spot for too long. It’s not how this works.”
He huffs and kicks a stray pebble across the concrete. It skitters away and disappears under a sedan. “You’re no fun.”
We walk deeper into the garage. My Accord is parked in the far corner—darkest spot, no cameras overhead, flanked by two concrete pillars. The perfect place to disappear for a couple of hours without drawing attention.
Our footsteps echo louder than they should as we walk and there’s a tension building between us.
Landon keeps up the commentary the whole way too…
“You could have said yes just once.Onemore movie. It’s not like Viktor is going to burst through the screen with a gun. We’re in a mall, Ivan. Malls are safe, dumb ass!”
I don’t answer.
He stomps his foot—actually stomps it as hard as he can, not just for show—when we reach the car. The sound bounces off the walls.
“Unless you take me back inside right now,” Landon declares, planting both hands on his hips, “I’m going to scream.Loud. And I’ll keep screaming until security comes.”
I stop and turn slowly to face him.
He lifts his chin, defiant, eyes sparkling with that bratty challenge I’ve come to recognize.
