by Tabatha Kiss
Someone knew we were coming.
They shove me forward and push me into the back of a van. I stumble to the right and fall onto the bench against the wall.
“Fox?”
I hear Lucy across from me, her voice shaking.
“Yeah,” I say, sitting back.
“Where’s Dante?”
The door opens again and they shove him inside onto the floor.
“Dante!” Lucy leans forward as they slam the doors.
“Lucy…” He coughs as he tries to right himself but he’s too worn out.
I nudge him with my foot. “Take a breather, Dante. You’re no good to me fried out.”
“Who are these people?” he asks, dry-heaving.
“I don’t know,” I answer.
The van starts and quickly speeds off. I try to orientate myself to feel which direction we’re headed. East? No, north…
“Dante…” Lucy says. “Are you okay?”
“I’m all right, Luce,” he replies, catching his breath.
I smirk. “Nice moves back there, Lucy.”
“Thank you,” she says.
“Fox…” Dante growls. “If we get out of this, I’m gonna kill you.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I know.”
He sits up silently and leans against her legs.
Twenty-Two
Boxcar
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Lilah asks. “Satellite shows nothing here.”
I stare ahead through the woods, biting my tongue a little too hard but my love of snark wins out in the end. “Wouldn’t be much of a secret hideout if you could see it, would it?” I answer. “It’s here. Just can’t remember how far in…”
She lets out an impatient breath but says nothing else as she quickens her stride up ahead. Archer glances over his shoulder at me and shows an apologetic shrug that I instantly brush off. She’s not annoying me. I’m not even particularly mad at her at the moment. I just prefer to suffer silently.
I can’t believe I agreed to come back here. I probably shouldn’t have. Breaking into this house changed my life and not in good ways. One could argue that I never would have met Caleb if I didn’t, and I yield to that argument, but I also never would have gotten caught. I never would have been dragged into the desert to commit treason against my country. I wouldn’t have gotten so obsessed with any of this.
And yet, here I am, walking right back into the belly of the beast instead of being at home with my pregnant wife.
I am not a smart man.
“It should be just up ahead,” I say.
Lilah’s red head flicks back. “What? You recognize a bush or something?” she quips.
“Actually, yeah.” I point to the left. “I stopped to take a leak on that tree.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Children, behave,” Archer says, his voice low.
“You know,” Lilah spins around to walk backward while speaking, “I call shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans?” I repeat.
“I think you’re taking us on one long goose chase,” she says.
I exhale. “Yeah, sure.”
“Lilah…” Archer tilts his head.
“He didn’t deny it,” she argues. “Come on, Archer. Isn’t it a little weird to you that in all the time you spent hanging out with Snake Eyes you never heard about this place either?”
“Wait…” I pause, staring up at Archer. “You hung out with Snake Eyes?”
He flexes his jaw. “It’s complicated.”
I grunt. “It’d be awfully nice if I could meet people who haven’t colluded with a criminal organization at some point.”
Lilah scoffs. “Good luck, Scratchy.”
“Sparky,” Archer says.
“Boxcar,” I say through my teeth.
“Idiot with the laptop,” she says. “Whatever.”
I squint in her direction. “So, are you ever going to get over the anger stage of grief? Because this shit is getting really old.”
Archer sighs as Lilah digs her toes into the grass. “Bloody…” he whispers.
“Listen, Bartholomew Eugene Carson,” she growls at me, “you say one more thing about my brother and I’ll string you up from your little piss tree.”
I smirk. “Hey, bargaining! That was quick.”
Lilah lunges at me but Archer grabs her by the arm before she can get close.
“That’s enough,” he barks. “Both of you get your shit together. Now. I don’t care who’s right or wrong — and I’m sure as hell not getting killed today over either one. Got it?”
She yanks her arm free and spins away silently. As she stomps off, Archer glares at me again.
“I know,” I say, raising my hands. “I know.”
“I admire and respect you, Boxcar,” he says, “but if I have to choose between you again—”
“I know…” I point upward. “Piss tree.”
He nods.
I gesture forward. “It should be just up ahead.”
Archer walks off, following Lilah through the woods. He catches up to her and lays a comforting hand on her shoulder. She accepts it, reluctantly, and I hear her biting words echoing through the wind.
I hang back for a moment. My arm instinctively reaches behind me and I graze the grip of Caleb’s revolver poking out of my belt. I’ve pointed it at Lilah Hart before.
I’ll do it again if I have to.
Twenty-Three
Caleb
A soft zipping noise wakes me up. I twitch awake as it stops and look around, taking a moment to remember that I’m in a dingy motel room on the outskirts of Vegas. A wad of used tissues lies crumbled up on the pillow beside me. My eyes feel stiff and my lashes tug a bit as I open them a little wider.
I sit up, feeling emotionally drained, but well-rested. That’s the power of a crying oneself to sleep, I suppose.
Dani pushes her small, closed suitcase to the side and sits down on the edge of her bed, facing me. “You okay?” she asks, cautious.
I rub the crusty bits out of the corner of my eyes. “Yeah,” I answer.
She grabs the bottle of water from the table between our beds and holds it out to me.
“Thank you.” I twist the cap off and take a bland, flavorless swig.
“Did you sleep?” she asks.
I chuckle. “Not really.” I squint at her perfectly-combed hair and easy-going make-up. Damn movie stars always looking so pretty all the time. “How long have you been up? And why didn’t you ask the woodland creatures to stick around and do my hair?”
She chuckles. “A few hours, I think.”
“Couldn’t sleep, either?”
Her head shakes. “Coffee is fresh.” She winces. “And caffeinated. Sorry, I don’t know the rules about that…”
“Neither do I.” I set the bottle down on the table. “But I’ll risk it.”
I pull myself out of bed and wander over to the tiny coffee station next to the TV. I fill the second mug nearly to the brim and turn around just in time to see Dani’s eyes flick away from me.
“Well…” I say, breaking the tension as I sit back down on my bed across from her. “I call dibs on the award for Most Immature Freak Out.”
“It’s all yours.” She smiles. “Actually, watching you freak out makes me feel pretty good about myself, so if you’ve got more freaking out to do…”
“Hard pass,” I say.
“Fair enough,” she says with a chuckle.
“I don’t know what happened,” I say, holding my coffee up to my nose. “I guess… I wasn’t ready to be back here again.” Dani’s head tilts. “The last time I was in Vegas, me and Box—”
“Got married!” she finishes. “Of course.”
I nod and take a sip. “Those memories plus, well…” I point at my stomach.
“Massive freak-out.”
“Right.”
“Just try and relax,” she says, grimacing. “Take it easy… I know that’s the worst possible thing anyone co
uld say, especially me. I’m barely keeping it together myself, but…”
“It’s true.” I sigh. “Last night, I was all about just hitting that reset button.”
“What are you thinking today?” she asks.
I inhale a deep, steady breath as my lips curl slightly. “I’m thinking that my husband and I have been married for two years and maybe it’s time. Okay, sure, out of those two years, we’ve spent a grand total of about twenty days together, but…” I chuckle and Dani laughs with me. “I don’t know if that matters. We love each other, we got married because we loved each other, and this baby was conceived because we loved each other. What could be wrong with that, you know?”
“I get it.” She nods. “Fox and I have only been together a few months but after everything that’s happened, it feels like a lot more.”
“Honey, Fox has always been with you,” I say. “From the day I met him, it was all-Dani all-the-time.”
Her eyes fall to her lap. “Maybe,” she says.
“Not maybe, Dani. Being away from you tore him apart. I guarantee he’s thinking about you right now and counting down the moments until he sees you again.”
She stares downward, barely moving as a shadow crosses her eyes.
“Dani,” I say. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she answers. She clears her throat and forces herself to look up but her eyes don’t reach mine. “Does he really want kids?” she asks.
I study the worry lines on her forehead. “Does that bother you?”
She pauses. “No, that’s just… not something I’ve ever had time to really think about.”
“You still have plenty of time to think about that kind of stuff, Dani.”
“You probably thought the same thing a week ago,” she argues.
“Okay, yeah. Sure. This was not planned, but that’s me and Box. We don’t plan shit,” I joke. “Things just happen with us. I follow him outside the barracks to scold him for wandering off and his tongue ends up down my throat. He shows up out of the blue with assassins on his ass and the next thing I know, he’s got me propped up on my kitchen counter and my panties are somewhere across the room.”
She snorts.
“That’s just us, Dani,” I say. “You and Fox have that soulmates never die, reach across the cosmos, love can move mountains, Disney-magic thing going on. You have nothing to worry about.”
“So, you’re not nervous about him?” she asks.
“Of course, I am. But he’s coming back. Fox always comes back. That’s what he does and, when he does…” I gesture to the rock on her finger. “You guys are gonna have the rest of your lives to figure it all out together.”
Dani looks down again, this time focusing on her left hand. She nods slowly and smiles, though I’m not sure she believes me.
“Want to stick around here for a while longer?” she asks. “Get some extra sleep and drive through the night? We should be in Iowa by Monday at this rate. Tuesday, at the latest.”
I nod. “Sounds good to me.”
Hell, I’m not even sure I believe me.
Twenty-Four
Fox
The van rocks back and forth for a several miles and the ride gets bumpier the farther we travel outside the city. I’ve lost my bearings completely. I can’t say for sure how far we’ve gone or in what direction. Dante can’t either. We won’t be able to tell anything until we get outside again, assuming they don’t shoot us before we get the chance — but I don’t really like to think that way.
Eyes open. Senses sharp. Don’t try and change the past. Try and alter the future instead.
I made a promise to Dani. I don’t intend on breaking it.
Finally, the van comes to a sudden stop. I dig my feet into the floor to keep from tumbling over but Lucy’s reflexes weren’t as sharp from the sounds of it. She yelps slightly before slapping against the wall.
“Ouch…” she murmurs.
“You okay?” Dante asks her.
“Getting pretty pissed off, honestly.”
The back doors swing open. A strong hand takes my arm and yanks me out onto the concrete ground. My boots echo slightly. We’re inside somewhere. The air smells like rotting wood and dried blood. It’s cold and stale.
I tune my ears, trying to count the number of people and create a map in my head of where they are. One with me. Two with Dante. Another with Lucy. About a half-dozen voices on the other side of the room.
We’re outnumbered and — if my sense of smell is correct — out-gunned.
Someone kicks the back of my knees, forcing me down to the floor. They plunk Lucy down to my left and I hear Dante putting up a struggle on the other side of her. A few punches and the sound of bullets sliding into chambers makes him sit still again.
A man stomps in closer, his heels grinding along the floor as he slowly passes each of us. The gang leader or maybe the low-level man assigned to torturing us. I can work with either one. Just have to get him talking.
I open my mouth to speak but he speaks first.
“Eti grebanyye zmei…” he growls softly.
These fucking snakes…
My lips curl as I recognize his old, dry voice.
“Markov?” I ask, raising my head. “I thought I smelled cheap vodka.”
There’s a short pause as his feet shift back in my direction.
“Fitzpatrick?”
He grabs my hood and pulls it off. I look up from into Markov’s milk-gray eyes as they shift with amusement and he laughs out loud from the bottom of his gut.
“Fitzpatrick!”
“Hey, Markov,” I greet.
He waves to dismiss the guards around us. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
I slowly rise off the floor. “We came to talk to Luka,” I answer.
“We?”
I look at the others and he sidles a step toward them. He yanks the hoods off Dante and Lucy’s heads. She flinches with fear while Dante sits there, calm as stone with a furrowed, bruised brow.
“This is Lucy and Dante,” I say. “They’re with me.”
Markov immediately walks around and leans down to cut Lucy’s hands free. “They are snakes? Like you?” he asks, extending his hand to her. Her eyes bounce from his to mine and I signal for her to take it. She does and he helps her off the floor.
“Yes, but I give you my word,” I say. “I wouldn’t bring them here with me if they meant trouble.”
One of his men steps forward and slices my zip tie open before doing the same for Dante.
Markov chews on his lip. “What do you want?”
I glance at his men standing all around the warehouse. “It’s sensitive,” I say. His brow twitches. “Just let us talk to Luka. He’ll want to hear this.”
Markov hesitates for less than a second before nodding. “Okay. I’ll take you.”
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He rubs his stubbled chin. “Eh, sorry about this...” He gestures around innocently. “They bring me a snake, I kill it.”
I pat his shoulder. “It’s all right, Markov.”
He waves the three of us along and points toward the black car parked outside. “Follow me,” he says.
Dante steps over to me and exhales hard. “That was close,” he says.
“Yeah.” I nod.
“How’d you know he’d be the one to pick us up?”
I shrug before stepping forward. “I didn’t.”
He reaches for Lucy’s hand and squeezes it tightly as we follow Markov outside.
“Bozhe moi!”
Her voice cries out from the top of the stairwell the second we step into the foyer of the Lutrova estate.
I look up at Nina Lutrova, feeling an instant smile stretch across my face as she stares down at me with a sagging jaw.
“Madam Lutrova,” I greet.
She descends the stairs slowly, her eyes scanning each face. They linger a little longer on Dante’s as she sizes him up and I recall her doing the same to me the first time I s
et foot on the estate. Maybe this time, I’ll fair a little better than an old couch in a cold storage room.
Nina reaches the bottom and squints at me. “You look different,” she says. “Why do you look different? Where have you been?”
“Los Angeles,” I answer.
“California?” she spits with disgust.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She rolls her big eyes. “Too much sunlight. It’s bad for your skin.”
I grin. “It’s nice to see you, too, Madam Lutrova.”
Her finger points up. “You saved my grandson. You can call me Nina.” She points behind me. “Who is this?”
“This is Dante Hart and Lucy Vaughn,” I say, turning to introduce them.
As Nina glides closer to welcome them, I catch sight of someone else in the corridor.
“Fox?”
Sofia stands there with one hand clenched to her chest. Her smile grows wider as she recognizes me and she gasps. “It is you!” she says, chuckling through her accent.
A bolt of warmth fills my chest. “Sofia,” I say, bowing my head in respect.
She strides forward and throws her arms around my neck. “I can’t believe you’re here…” she says. “You look well.”
“Eh…” Nina titters.
I chuckle. “Well, I’m alive.”
Sofia takes a step back to look at me again. I know she’ll get the joke better than anyone. She’s a survivor, too.
“Some days, that’s all we need,” she says, glancing at Dante and Lucy behind me. “This isn’t a social call, is it?”
I shake my head. “No.”
She shows a bit of worry on her face but holds her smile.
Nina nudges my arm. “How many beds?” she asks.
“Uh…” I pause to think. “We may not need—”
“You two,” she says, pointing at Dante and Lucy. “Are you married?”
“Nina,” Sofia says, her cheeks pinking.
“Yes,” Dante answers, clenching Lucy’s hand a little tighter. Her eyes twitch wide-open, giving the lie away, but Nina doesn’t question it.
