by SR Jones
Dark, almost black eyes regard me amusedly. Light brown eyes assess me. Deep blue eyes look at me with hunger despite the fact I’ve just snickered at my own internal musings.
God, I’m such a dork.
“So, you’re Roze.” Cole walks into the room, throws a rucksack from his shoulders onto the floor, and holds out his hand. “I’m Cole, pleased to meet you.”
“Hi, Cole. Thanks for coming.”
“Pleasure.” He smiles at me, and my God, but he has a truly panty-melting smile. I bet he has women falling at his feet when he uses it. He turns to Priest and punches him on the upper arm. “See? That’s how it’s done, motherfucker. Thanks for coming.”
“You two ought not to swear so much in front of the lady.” Bianchi shakes his head at them, then turns to me. “Roze. Good luck. I understand from a conversation that I had with Mr. Silvanov today that you are under his official protection and that of some of his associates. I also give you my protection. I have let it be known, anything happens to you, and it’s a personal affront to me. How safe these words make you, I cannot say. In the world your father operates within, there used to be rules. Honor. Now, not so much. However, you have my protection for what it is worth.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it. Then he says to me in Italian. “Your bodyguard is in love with you, but he doesn’t know it yet.”
He turns to Priest and gives him a shark’s grin. “Ciao, Priest.”
Priest sighs, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Later, Bianchi.”
He leaves, and Cole takes something out of his bag. “Got you a new ID, passport, and documents. For now, you’re Katie Regan. British citizen. Age twenty-three. You’re also blonde.”
“What?” I stare at him. His words are enough to stop what Bianchi just told me from taking over my sanity.
He opens the passport he’s holding and shows me the picture inside. It’s me, but with blonde hair and blue eyes. My hair is short.
“Reece and Damen sorted the documents. Giovanni says he has a member of his staff who can do your hair. She used to work as a hairdresser, and she’s totally trustworthy, according to him. She’ll be here any minute.”
“Wait, what’s going on?”
Cole shrugs and looks to Priest. “I presume you’re taking her home. To America?”
“Yeah,” Priest confirms.
“America?” I look at Priest. “You said you weren’t down with getting people into the country illegally,” I say.
“Not illegal,” Cole states. “Or, at least, it won’t be longer term. I have a lot of contacts. We just need to get you safely into the country for now, and then we can look at long-term plans.”
He looks to Priest. “So, Reece had an idea. I figured you’d be taking her back to your place?”
“The cabin? Thought of it, yes. It’s remote. Fitted with cameras. Safe.”
“It’s also registered to you, right?”
“They don’t know who I am,” Priest points out.
“Yet.” Cole shrugs. “If that changes, you and her being there is dangerous. A few years ago, Reece’s colleague, dude called Liam, he stayed on a houseboat, in Sausalito.”
“That place is crawling with people,” Priest says.
“It is, but it has nothing to do with you. No link at all. Why the fuck would they look for you in the San Francisco bay area? She has false ID, so have we. You’re going to be flying under a different name. I’m Malcom Leatheridge, and you’re Wayne Donavon.”
“Who the fuck chose the names?”
Cole snorts. “Reece. Did it fast. Listen up. I think Reece’s plan is solid. We fly to San Francisco. None of our real names will be on the flight manifest, and when Roze has had her makeover, no one will recognize any pictures of a dark haired, dark-eyed girl the Polish mob might be flashing around. From the airport, we drive to Sausalito. I’ve had a contact out there leave us a car at the airport parking lot, fitted with some helpful items in the trunk. Liam has also spoken with the woman who owns the houseboats, and she says you can stay on one. There’s literally no way to trace you there. It gives the guys back at base time to find out who is after Roze and take them out.”
“Wait, what? They’re getting involved?”
“Not directly, but it seems that a few of K’s old business associates are not happy about the fact that the Polish faction were taking women from Belarus and Ukraine. Andrius is not happy. He’s not personally getting on a plane because let’s be honest, Violet would castrate him, but he’s organizing with K and another friend of theirs, Ilya something or other. The Greeks are also pissed as some of the lanes Stamatis Kantos controls have been used for this. Let’s say nationalist feelings have been stirred all around.”
“Who is Stamatis Kantos?” I ask.
“He’s cartel and one deadly, cold motherfucker. If he and his men get involved, all bets are off for the Polish crew. Those women Gezim has hidden away? They are not Polish, so now Gezim’s enemies have made more enemies amongst many Eastern European nations. It’s all a big old clusterfuck, but it means Roze can be kept safe, by you, until a time comes when we know what’s happened with her father, and how things have shaken out.”
My head is spinning as I try to take it all in. “Any more news on my father?” I ask.
“He’s alive, but they’re still demanding the women be returned, and your father refuses to cooperate. However, as they’re about to face an attack from all sides, and your father’s men are readying a rescue op, I’d say his chances are pretty good.”
“I hope so.” I send up a prayer for my father. God, keep him safe.
A knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts, and Cole opens it to a petite young girl, with a warm smile.
“Are you Roze?” she asks in halting English.
I smile at her. “Yes, I am,” I say in Italian. “Thank you for this.”
“No problem.” She turns to Priest and Cole. “I will take Miss Roze to the bathroom now, and we do hair.”
“Okay,” Cole says.
“Wait,” Priest commands. I pause, and he takes hold of my hair, runs it through his fingers, and kisses a strand. “Now you can go.”
Thirty minutes later, and I’m staring at myself in dismay. I could cry. My long, dark hair is now short and yellow. It’s yellow.
I point at the color and say to the young girl, “This isn’t nice.”
“No, it is not the color you’d get if we had more time. I need to tone it, though, which will make it less yellow. But we only have limited time, and you can’t come back for another treatment. To go from as dark as you were to blonde, it takes repeat treatments. You look different, though, and that’s what Signor Bianchi said you needed.”
I do look different. Horribly so. I loved my hair, damn it.
My head burns too.
After a while, I just give into it, and let her do her thing. Another hour or so later, and she’s finally rinsed my hair for the last time. She dries it with the blow dryer in the bathroom, and then she takes some things out of her bag. It’s makeup and a small box. “Now I have to put the contacts in, and then we will do the makeup.”
The contacts sting my eyes, and it feels as if there’s no part of my head or face that isn’t hurting now. Then she goes to town with the makeup.
“Okay, you’re done.”
She stands back and smiles. “I tried to make you as sexy as possible because you’re beautiful, but I could have cried cutting off that lovely hair. Now, you look good. How would you say… Edgy.”
I laugh. Edgy. Not something I’ve been called before. She stands back as I look and gasp.
My eyes are blue, my hair is a sandy blonde, and my face! My lips are painted a hot, sexy pink, and I have dark kohl around my eyes. She’s also done something with bronzer that’s changed the shape of my face a bit. It’s not as soft looking. I have cheekbones.
“Now you look different.” She gives me a hug. “I hope you will be safe, Roze.”
“Thank you,” I
tell her.
When she’s packed up her things and gone, I realize I don’t even know her name. I determine to find out and send her a gift once I’m safe.
I linger for ages in the bathroom, not wanting to face Priest with my new look. What if he hates it?
“AJ, we have to get going,” he shouts eventually.
Shit. Here goes.
I open the bathroom door and walk out. Priest stares. And stares some more.
I touch my head, self-conscious. “Do you hate it?” I ask.
He shakes his head slowly and walks up to me. “No. I don’t hate it. It’s weird, like you’re playing dress up. You’re beautiful with your natural hair, but this is kind of hot. Like you, but different.”
“The girl who did it said I looked edgy.” I laugh.
“You’ll only need the contacts for the flight. Once we’re in Sausalito, you can ditch them. The hair you’ll have to keep up longer.” Cole hands me the passport. “Get a bag, put that in it. Learn your name. What did you call her?” Cole asks Priest.
“AJ.”
“Okay, we can call you that, it won’t give anything away, but no one uses Roze. From now on there is no Roze Muka until we know it’s safe, okay?”
I nod and feel as if I could cry. Life just keeps on hitting me with one thing after another.
I don’t let the tears come, though. Instead, I hold my head up high, smile at Priest, and say, “Let’s go.”
Chapter 22
I can’t stop staring at Roze, or AJ as she’s now called by myself and Cole, along with her new moniker of Katie, which we use with any officials.
We’re cruising above the mountains, and it won’t be long now before we start our descent into San Francisco.
At first, I wasn’t sure about Cole’s plan. I have family and friends back home, close enough to the cabin to help if needed. The more I thought about it, though, the more it made sense. It’s better for us to be somewhere that neither of us have any ties, and no one will come looking for us. Hopefully, the situation will be resolved quickly.
It doesn’t sit right with me that I’m not going to be involved in taking these fuckers out. They’ve threatened what I now see as mine. Again, though, Cole was right when he told me she needs someone stuck to her like glue while the danger is acute, and damn if I will let that person be anyone other than me.
I glance at her to see her staring out the window.
She’s so different with her gorgeous hair gone. I loved that damn hair, but she’s still as pretty to me, albeit in a different way. Her face looks smaller somehow, and you can see all her perfect features better. I hate the eyes, though. Can’t wait until she can take those contacts out. I love her dark eyes. They’re so expressive. These blue ones look cold in comparison.
I got her a ton of shit at the airport. A bag full of books. Magazines. And now, she’s listening to the music on my phone. My private phone. Not my burner. This phone no one has the number for. The one I use for surfing, listening to music, reading. I never use it to call anyone. For calls, I have several burner phones. The one I use to call family has been discarded already. I sent a message to them saying I’d be out of touch a while and would call as soon as I could. They know this means to be alert and not try to contact me. However, I have a burner I never use, and only my bro has the number to it in case he needs to contact me urgently. Alongside this I have the burner I use to communicate with Cole and the guys at the base in Corfu. This phone I change up all the time. As do they.
Roze takes the earbuds out and fiddles with them on her lap for a while.
“You okay?” I ask.
Startling blue eyes turn to look at me. “Yeah. I’m kind of scared.”
“That’s natural,” I tell her, and I take her hand and give it a squeeze.
“Not so much of those men getting me.” Her voice is super low, but I squeeze her hand in warning.
This is not a good place to talk about anything.
She gets the message and nods and sighs. “When we get to our destination, AJ, okay? Tell me then.”
“Okay.”
The rest of the flight seems to take forever. It’s always the way when you go a long haul. The last hour or so is interminable. Finally, we start our descent.
Once we’re off the plane and through passport and customs, we head straight to where the car should be. Neither of us have weapons, so this is the most vulnerable we will be at any point during this whole situation. On the plane, in a confined space, I doubt anyone would start firing guns, and there are air marshals. Here, though, on the ground and out in the open, if any of these fuckers do know where we are, right now is when they might attack. It’s what I would do. They’d have to know we wouldn’t be able to carry on the flight.
Eyes constantly searching the dark around us, I hold onto Roze’s arm as we keep to the dark and rush toward the part of the parking lot where the vehicle should be.
Bay 99, row G, and there she is. A beauty of a Chevy. Big, tinted windows. Fast too. Cole follows the instructions for finding the fob. As soon as the doors are unlocked, I open the rear door and guide Roze to the middle passenger seat. “Buckle up, AJ,” I tell her.
Statistically, it’s the safest seat if we get t-boned.
Cole pops the trunk. Under a false floor there’s one of those flat, under the bed gun safes.
We open it and find all we need.
“Fucking beautiful,” I say. “Thank your friend for me. He’s come through.”
“She,” Cole replies. “And she always does.”
We take the weapons we need immediately and strap them on. Then we head to the car.
I take the driver’s seat, Cole takes the passenger, and I check on Roze in the back.
Cole turns on the radio, and country fills the car from a local station. He rests his long fingers on his leg and drums in time to the music as he stares out the window. He’s thinking about Pamela; I can almost feel it.
The drive is uneventful and at one point, I glance at Roze and see she’s asleep. Her head is lolled to one side, and her mouth is open as a soft little snore escapes.
“Do you think she’s going to be safe?” I ask Cole.
“Short-term, with you guarding her? Yeah. Long-term…”
He lets it hang.
I glance at her again in the rearview mirror.
“Once you cut her loose, then who knows, but if her father can wrestle back control, then yeah. She also has the protection of a lot of people most sane folks would not want to go up against. Now, are the Polish crew sane? Who knows?”
I sigh and shuffle in my seat. “Well, that’s just it, Cole. I don’t plan on letting her go.”
Silence, nothing but silence. It stretches out for a full minute.
“You going to say something?” I ask.
He turns to me, looking behind him first. “John,” he uses my actual name, a rarity. “I’m glad you think you’ve found someone. The whole going it alone, locking yourself down thing struck me as unhealthy as Target’s drinking, man-whoring ways of dealing. But, man, you hardly know her. You’ve been with her a few days. It’s intense; I get that. You’re her protection right now, and lines got blurred, but two years down the line?”
I don’t tell him she gave me her virginity. I don’t tell him that being with her was pretty much one of the defining experiences of my life. We don’t say shit like that to one another. I do tell him where my head is at, though. “I can sleep,” I state. “With her. I sleep.”
“Jesus, Priest.” He shakes his head. “It’s only been a few nights. I get it, I do.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you do because let’s not forget you’re chasing a ghost.”
I regret the words as soon as I say them. This is why I don’t talk much. I screw it up.
“Sorry, man. Forget I said that.”
“No, let’s not forget you said it. Pamela isn’t a ghost. I’m convinced she’s alive, and I’ve known her years. You’ve known AJ days. She’s a fucking
mafia kingpin’s daughter, Priest. Can you imagine her sitting for family dinner with your clan?”
Yes, I can, which is part of the scary thing. I can imagine Roze wherever I am. It’s as simple as that.
“What about her? She’s not a thing. You can’t just say dibs and she’s yours. How does she feel?”
“She wants this too.” I know she does.
“You’ve asked her?”
“What? Like, AJ, will you be my girlfriend?” I put on a stupid voice.
“Yeah, fucker, exactly like that. I think you ought to before you get ahead of yourself. I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”
“Oh, you care,” I tell him with a grin.
“Truly, madly, deeply,” he replies.
I glance at him, and he bats his eyelashes at me and winks.
“You remember that time Legend told all those German troops he’d been stationed with that he worked as a Hollywood stunt double, and they believed him, so he had to spend days inventing ever wilder tales of Hollywood excess.”
I chuckle, and we’re back on more familiar ground. Old stories. Jokes. Banter.
He’s a friend, and a close one, and I get he’s worried for me, but he doesn’t need to be. I’m big enough and ugly enough to take care of myself. Roze however … whole other situation.
“Take a left here,” Cole says, “and then the second right. That takes us down to the marina.”
I can smell the brine on the air, and I fucking love it.
We arrive at the docks, and there in front of us is heaven. House boats, floating homes, all in bright colors and lit by the lanterns on the marina.
“So, this contact of Liam’s, she has a few properties now. And there’s two next to one another. They’re on one of the farthest docks, one is a floating home, on three levels; the one next to it is an actual boat. The floating home also has a motorboat that comes with, which means if you want a day out on the ocean, you got it. The larger one you and Roze take, and I’ll take the boat next door.”
