Nikolas laughs. A booming, free kind of laugh that reverberates through my entire being and sends my heart soaring into the sky. “I said I’d help you, didn’t I? Besides, Iwas supposed to be dead, remember? Now that they know I’m alive, they won’t settle for anything less than my head on a pike.” He pinches my nose playfully, his smile reaching his eyes. “I will protect you.”
I blink in disbelief both at the tease and at his words. Is it that bad? Just because Nikolas Stavros is the only one who ever took down a Crimson Crew general? Why is something that happened a decade ago such a big deal? Mobsters kill each other all the time, and sure they hold grudges, but La Croce Nera is no more, as far as I know. Those who didn’t perish during the Crew’s retaliation raids after Nikolas’ supposed death were either assimilated into other organizations or lead entirely new lives, like Father Gabriel. Isn’t that enough for the Crew? Surely, they’ve picked a new dude to replace the old one by now.
“You are taking this awfully well, considering.” I scrunch my nose.
A finger pokes my forehead. “If I learned anything in the last ten years as Father Gabriel, it’s that it’s best to take things as they come. Overthinking and worrying won’t do you any good.”
And neither would running forever, but as things are now, it seems like my only option. At least until we figure something out.
Nikolas opens his mouth to say something, but the flaps of wings not far from where we are distract him. He pushes me away abruptly, the blissful moment between us shattering. “We are not far from the border, but we won’t be able to cross on foot. We’ll have to take a bit of a detour and get creative.” He grips my wrist, and we break into a light run.
A detour? I study the trees with their tall forms and sprawling branches. “What kind of a detour are we talking about?”
“You’ll see when we get there.” A flash of Nikolas’ shit eating grin—the first one I’ve seen so far—spurs my legs faster.
Oh, whatever he has in mind can’t be good. I grin, excitement bubbling up inside me and trying to get free. I’m so in.
5
Nikolas
Theillegalcargocenterlooks lively and awake, like a small village huddled in the middle of the woods and away from prying eyes. Lights shine in the darkness like guiding beacons, voices can be heard. The air carries the scent of burning wood, but if I really focus, I can also catch the whiff of grilled meat.
Did the workers enjoy a barbecue night? I could go for some. I bet Tommy would appreciate it, too.
I glance at him, my heart skipping a beat. He scared me last night, the way he shivered and trembled in my arms, the way he held on. Delight crawls up my spine, and I do my best to shake it off. He seems to be doing alright now, his almost-breakdown forgotten. I’m glad. He looked so vulnerable, so lost when he clung to me as if I was the only thing keeping him afloat.
I shut down another spark of desire. It’s been so long since someone needed me like this. Since they let their guard down around me. Tommy doesn’t flinch, doesn’t avert his eyes when our gazes meet. He looks at me and smiles, or tosses a joke, or says something stupid.
Shaking my head, I stop and scuff the dirt with my foot. Seriously, did he really think I might hand him over to the Crew? As if I could do that. He came to me, a man who was dead to the world. He sought me out. And yes, heruined my farce of a life as Father Gabriel, but in all honesty, I’m not even sure I care about that. The only thing that matters is that this little devil is in the worst shit I’ve ever seen, and I am the only one who can protect him.
My eyes dart from left to right, taking in the patrolling guards, the number of vehicles, the size of the buildings, everything I can scope from our vantage point.
“Hey, why are we stopping?” Tommy asks in his singsong voice. He sounds even more tired than earlier, like he can barely stay awake.
I don’t blame him—we’ve been hiking for hours, not stopping even once for a break. But he’s doing great. Surprisingly so. This way of living is all new to him, being on the run, glancing over your shoulder every few steps, but he’s picking up things impressively quickly. He’s a tougher cookie than he looks.
I smile to myself as I scope out the road leading into the compound, pride budding inside me. I’m not sure if we lost our pursuers, but we should have made some time. And this complex could be our salvation. Or damnation, if the quickly forming plan in my head goes south. I guess we’ll have to see.
“We aren’t stopping.” I raise my hand to halt him as I spot movement in the clearing ahead of us. “I just need to figure out how to sneak us in.”
“Sneak us in. Ooh…” Tommy trails off, his gaze darting to the two security guards that emerge from the compound’s gates. They are fully uniformed and carry guns. “Wait, what?! You gotta be kidding me. You aren’t seriously suggesting we infiltrate a guarded cargo depot, are you?” He frowns. “But also, what is it doing in the middle of the forest?”
“It’s used for smuggling,” I explain. “They run an illegal operation.”
Tommy’s eyebrows pinch together. “How do you know that?”
I let a small smile settle on my lips. “I did business with them, a couple of times. Way back.”
Realization slides across his face. There is no distaste, no judgment, just a nod. “Gotcha.”
One of the five armored cargo vehicles backs from its parking spot, then exits the complex through that same thick metal gate, leaving behind a cloud of dust. The two guards wave at the driver and his buddy, then continue their lazy perimeter walk.
“Do you see the crates on those trucks?” I ask, tilting my chin at the still parked vehicles.
Tommy squints, pouting his full lips. “Yes?”
“That’s contraband cargo. You don’t move that much product by truck alone out here. There’s probably an airstrip nearby.” Something local, even public. I don’t know where we are exactly—it’s half by luck that I even managed to find this place—but a hidden hub like this in the middle of the woods means they are probably piggybacking on civilian infrastructure.
