“Dom, I need to speak with you regarding a matter of some urgency.” Colt got right to the point. I sat up, instantly on alert. “An issue has arisen with some international investments. It just came to my attention. We have a security concern I’d like to discuss. Where are you?”
“Asheville.” I wondered what he’d gotten himself into. I’d always known, any man running a business that big had to get his fingers dirty every now and then. No one amassed that kind of wealth and stayed squeaky clean.
“Can I fly you back to New York?”
“Really?” He couldn’t even discuss it on the phone? He had to be into some deep shit.
“It’s about Gigi.”
I was up on my feet before I even responded, “Yes.”
“Give me your address. I’ll have a car there in twenty minutes to take you to an airfield.”
The car was waiting for me right when he said. I’d already been ready for nineteen minutes. It was what I knew how to do, and it involved Gigi. She might be in danger. I needed to get to her. The flight took too long, even though it was private so I didn’t have any of the usual commercial flight hassles with security and lines.
Colt was in a town car waiting for me when I landed just after one a.m. He gave me the highlights of his current shit storm. I was right. It was a bad one.
It turned out that his former COO, Leonard, had been dealing dirty for years, getting in way over his head with exactly the kinds of people you didn’t want to mess with at all, ever. I knew about those kinds of people. I hadn’t grown up with a silver spoon in my mouth like Colt. In some ways, I’d had more of an education than Colt with all of his Harvard degrees. Most everyone I knew had a dark side and, given the right conditions, they’d go there. Greed and power were ruthless motivators.
It seemed Leonard had gotten into it with a Columbian drug cartel. Of all the dumbass moves I could imagine, that might top the list. How had he pitched that investment—there’s this great opportunity with these really cool guys? Had he ever heard of Pablo Escobar? The guy was dead, but his practices weren’t. Those were some ruthless motherfuckers, and I said that having met more than a few.
I didn’t get all the details. We didn’t have time. But the gist of it was he’d gotten Kavanaugh Investors involved with the coffee trade, which had pissed off those involved with the cocaine trade, and now the cartel had issued a death threat.
The thing about a Columbian drug cartel was they really knew how to hit where it hurt. A typical bad guy would have taken a swing right at Colt. A cleverer bad guy would have targeted his new wife, and that would have been effective. But Colt had Caroline under wraps, heavily guarded since intel had reached him that this could become a problem.
But these guys? They were the real deal, experts at cruelty and getting what they wanted. So they’d made a death threat against Colt’s beloved, vulnerable younger sister. Unprotected, living single in the city, Gigi would make an easy target.
Or so they thought.
“You’re the one I can trust,” Colt told me, intense, fervent, more desperate than I’d ever seen him. “You’ll keep her safe.”
“I’ll get her out tonight,” I agreed, not even bothering to formally accept the assignment. No one would hurt Gigi. I didn’t care what they tried to do. I would stop them.
“I’m working on a place for you to take her.”
“I know a guy.” I took charge of the situation. Colt knew how to make all sorts of business arrangements, but he didn’t know how to make these kinds of plans. We needed a heavily-guarded safe house, the kind of place we could disappear for a while until Colt straightened out the mess. It had been more than a few years since I’d talked to anyone back in the MC, but they’d take my call. They’d know where to hide us. And Colt would be able to pay them handsomely for their help.
“Thought you might.” Colt exhaled with relief. I wanted to tell him he should keep on holding his breath. This thing was far from over. But I’d let him worry about that.
I had my mission now. I needed to grab Gigi, steal her away without a trace under the cover of night and hide her from anyone trying to do her harm. I was on it. I would succeed. I had only one question: Who was going to protect Gigi from me?
But there was no time for hesitation. We might already be too late. Colt said he had a couple of guys watching security at her apartment. Most likely gym rats who’d talked their way into getting an earpiece. I had no confidence in them.
“Where is she now?”
“She’s at her apartment, probably asleep.”
“Take me there now.”
He told me again he had people watching her. Instead of cursing his stupidity—he should have moved her the second he knew she was a target—while we drove I made some calls. As I’d thought, I knew the right people in the right places. There was a house outside Phoenix, used before for exactly this purpose, with security built to withstand the fire of the pathological and heavily armed. Good, because it sounded like we would need exactly that.
“I need a car with bullet-proof windows and a change of plates in the trunk. Can you get that?” Colt was a wealthy and powerful guy, but I’d bet he’d never had to comply with that kind of request before.
“I’ll figure it out,” he assured me. “And I’ll give you some money. Do you need a weapon?”
Yes, I would, more than one, but the guys I knew would set me up better than Colt. Plus, I already had my M9 on me. “Got one.”
“Yeah? On you?” He seemed surprised. Maybe he didn’t meet with guys every day who carried concealed semi-automatic handguns strapped to their lower back. Or at least he didn’t realize he did.
“Get two burner phones,” I continued. “One for you, one for me. Do you know what that is? A prepaid phone you throw out after you use?”
“Got it.” He hadn’t heard of one before, I could tell. Fuck, I hoped Colt wouldn’t screw this up. “Where will you take Gigi?” he asked.
“Somewhere safe.”
“I’m going to work this out, Dom. I swear I am. It rose up and it’s biting me in the ass, but I know how to work my way out of a tough situation.”
“These men want to kill your wife, your sister, your grandmother, anyone they can to bring you to your knees. Do you understand?”
He looked white as a ghost but to his credit he only swallowed once before saying, “Absolutely. I’m on it. I’ll have this mess cleaned up fast.”
I nodded, wondering if it would be as fast he promised. Regardless of how long it took, I assured him, “I’ll keep Gigi safe while you do it.”
The town car pulled up in front of her Upper East Side apartment. “How long do you need—car, phones, plates?” I wanted it all in ten.
“An hour?”
“Make it 20 minutes. I’ll bring Gigi down, and I want the car here waiting for us.”
“All right.”
“In 12 hours, call my phone from yours. I’ll give you our coordinates and ETA.”
“Dom, thank you. I didn’t know where else to turn.”
“You did the right thing.”
I slipped out into the night. Getting into Gigi’s apartment was far too easy. The guy standing in the hall outside her doorway looked about 16-years-old. When I told him I was working for Colt, he let me right into her apartment. He was either the dumbest security detail in history, or on the payroll of the cartel. Either way, I needed to make this quick and quiet, getting Gigi to a secure location as fast as possible.
The apartment was silent and dark. The first bedroom I checked was empty, but the family in the photo on a dresser was not Gigi’s. I hoped I was right and the room belonged to a roommate. In the second bedroom there lay Gigi, sleeping peacefully, and I let out the breath I was holding. Fate had given us a pass. I’d gotten to her in time—again. Now I’d do whatever it took to keep her safe.
I woke her with my hand across her mouth. Her eyes widened in panic.
“Shh, you’re all right,” I whispered. “I’m
here with you. I’m going to take care of you.” She relaxed at my words, looking up at me with so much trust it nearly killed me. I definitely didn’t deserve it. “Can you listen but stay quiet?” She nodded and I removed my hand.
“You scared me to death,” she whispered, hand to her chest, sitting up.
“Listen to me,” I spoke, hushed and urgent. “You need to pack a change of clothes and toiletries and then I’m going to get you out of here.”
“What?” Her voice rose a fraction. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain everything when I can. Right now, you need to pack. Use the bathroom. Put on some sneakers. We’ve got to go.”
“Wait, is everything all right?” I could see her anxiety rise, realizing this wasn’t a social call.
“I can’t take time to explain it now, Gigi, but your brother Colt asked me to come here and get you.”
“Is he OK?” Now she was definitely speaking too loudly. Who knew who might be listening or watching us, a sniper rifle trained on her through the crack in the window shades?
I knelt over by the bed at her side, taking her hands into mine. “Gigi, do you trust me?”
She looked into my eyes and without any hesitation she answered, “yes.”
“Then do as I’ve asked. Where can I find a bag for you to pack?”
“Um, like an overnight bag? The hall closet. I’ve got a tote there.” She headed into the bathroom. I pulled out a pink-and-green striped canvas tote monogrammed GMK. Not exactly a nondescript black duffle, but it would work.
She was taking too long. I paced, wondering what the hell she was doing in there. This wasn’t a vacation she was packing for.
“We’ve got to go,” I called quietly into the bedroom.
“Just a sec.”
Another five minutes later, she walked out wearing a bright pink cashmere sweater and fitted jeans, holding some clothes in her arms. “Should I bring a bathing suit?” My phone rumbled with a text.
* * *
Colt: Back with the car. A man just entered the building. Not good.
* * *
Dom: Meet us out back. 85th and Park.
* * *
“Let’s go. Now.” Dropping the tote, I grabbed Gigi’s hand. She gasped as I pulled her forward, clothes tumbling to the floor. She was wearing high-heeled boots, not the sneakers I’d told her to put on, but they were better than nothing. She started to ask a question, but I put my finger to my lips again, hustling us to the door. Just before my hand touched the doorknob, I heard a loud thump out in the hallway. The kind of sound a body made when it hit the floor. I drew my gun.
“Stay behind me,” I whispered. I counted to three, then opened the door to a man in black very much not the security guard. Surprise on my side, I fired first and down he went, next to the kid he’d just taken out.
Gigi screamed as I pulled her into the doorway, shielding her with my body, looking right and left. After the noise of a gunshot, we only had seconds before neighbors started poking their heads into the hallway. I spotted an exit sign and ran with her toward it. The stairwell was empty and we started running downstairs.
“Did you just—? Who was—?” she gasped, trying to keep up.
“You got to run, Gigi.” I pulled her faster, wondering if I should hoist her onto my back. She might twist an ankle in those heels. But she managed to book along with me. We made it down to the lobby floor, but I kept leading us down another level.
“This takes us to the fitness center,” she warned me.
“And a back entrance?”
“Only open between six and midnight.”
“Show me.” If there was a door, I’d open it. The fitness center was dark and deserted. She led me out a side door, then down a hallway right up to exactly the back entrance we needed. All locked up for the night.
I examined the lock. It was electronic and complex, but I bet I could shoot my way out. “Stand back.”
“Wait.” Gigi put her hand on my arm and waved through the window. Was she crazy? “Hey, could you?” she mouthed to someone outside. Quick as a wink, a doorman came to open the door from the outside for Miss Kavanaugh.
“Enjoy your evening.” He tipped the brim of his cap to us, asking no questions. That was easier than blowing out the lock.
I walked us along quickly, not wanting to attract attention with a run. Every shadow, every car posed a deadly threat, but I didn’t see any movement and we traveled swiftly. When we rounded 85th, an SUV with dark tinted windows was parked in a no parking zone. It was either our car or the bad guys’, and there was only one way to find out.
Staying in the shadows, we approached. No sound, no movement. I darted forward and tested the driver’s handle. It opened.
“Get in.” I didn’t have to ask her twice. She scrambled over the driver’s seat and into the passenger’s. I followed, found keys under the driver’s seat, fired it up and sped into the dark city street.
“What just happened? Who was that man? Is he dead?” Gigi’s voice had a note of hysteria.
“Buckle your seatbelt.”
“Dom, you just shot someone!”
“Gigi, buckle your goddamned seatbelt.”
After a moment, she grabbed the belt and I heard a click. But I could see her gripping the seat, white-knuckled, especially when we sped through Central Park like hell on wheels. I swerved left on Columbus, right on 83rd, left on Broadway, each time waiting until the last second and crossing lanes in case anyone might be tailing us. It wasn’t exactly a cloak and dagger disappearing act, but it was the best I could do on the tight grid of the city while also following GPS to get us toward the parkway.
In the rearview mirror, a black Explorer advanced on us.
“Get down.” I reached over and pushed Gigi’s head down between her knees. I didn’t want to hurt or scare her, but whatever I did would be a lot nicer than what they had planned.
They started gunning it, trying to come up alongside and get a good look in. Maybe a good shot, too. I gave the window a rap and sure enough it sounded low, dull and bulletproof. Colt had come through for us. I swerved onto the parkway, but they did, too, maneuvering around another driver. I’d planned on taking the Lincoln Tunnel out of the city, and they figured as much. I got into the right lane and merged on, making sure they did, too.
But then I shifted, quick, into the left lane, jammed into reverse and sped backwards at 40 miles an hour. Gigi screamed at the top of her lungs, sitting up and pressing her hands against the ceiling of the car like that would help us not crash. I’d been trained for this kind of maneuver, but no amount of training could ever make backing out of the Lincoln tunnel safe even in light, two thirty in the morning traffic. I swerved around one oncoming car, beeping at me like I didn’t know I was doing something insane. I swung out to miss another, then another, until I could finally dish us back out to where I could swing a U-turn and merge back onto the parkway.
“What the fuck was that?” Gigi shrieked. “Are you trying to kill us?”
“I’m trying to make sure you don’t get killed, sweetheart.” I checked my rearview mirror. No car was coming after us. I might have lost them, but they’d gotten our plates. I was going to need to switch them out sooner than I’d hoped.
“Who’s trying to kill me?”
“Seems that Kavanaugh Investors has pissed off the wrong people.”
“But I don’t have anything to do with them!”
“It’s a family business and you’re family.” I sped us down toward the Holland Tunnel, hoping we wouldn’t find a surprise waiting for us once we got across.
“I’m an interior designer! How could they think I’m a threat?”
“They don’t. They’re trying to get at your brother.” She needed a lesson in how bad guys thought. I guess they hadn’t covered that at her fancy college. They probably didn’t offer Bad Guys 101.
“But that doesn’t make any sense! Dom, seriously, this is crazy. You should pull over, and we should call
the police.”
“Princess, I am your police.”
“What does that even mean?”
“The kind of guys after you? Cops won’t make them bat an eye. But I’ll keep you safe.”
“Where are you taking me? This is crazy.” You know what was crazy? She took out the cell phone I didn’t know she had on her and started making a call. I snatched it out of her hands and slipped it into my back pocket. I’d toss it right out the window but then someone might find it. I didn’t want to give the NYPD anything else to mull over. The bodies outside Gigi’s apartment door and her sudden disappearance would be enough on their own. It would be easier to get Gigi to Arizona and stay hidden if her face wasn’t on the TV news. I hoped Colt’s army of lawyers had their sleeves rolled up.
“What the hell are you doing? You can’t just take my phone!” Now she got hysterical, grabbing at my arm, pulling at my shirt. Evading hot pursuit was going to be challenging enough on its own without her losing it.
“Gigi, you need to calm the fuck down,” I snarled. “And if you don’t, I’m going to pull over and throw you in the back seat where I will bind and gag you.” She pulled back as if I’d slapped her. She might hate me for threatening her like that, but she needed to know who was in charge. “You sit there with your hands in your lap, stay buckled and don’t say a goddamned word until I tell you.”
“You’re crazy,” she muttered. But after those words, she did as she was told, sitting still and staring out the window. She looked furious, but that was better than panicked. Making her hate me was a small price to pay for keeping her safe.
Out in New Jersey, I saw no sign of our pursuers and I focused on getting us onto the interstate. In an hour, I pulled over into an empty truck stop. Under the dark cover of night I changed out our license plates, then smashed her phone and tossed it into a dumpster. Soon after I got us on the road again, despite herself, I saw Gigi’s eyes start to close, then jolt open, then close again. By the time the sun finally rose she’d fallen asleep and she stayed that way for a few hours.
Just past Pittsburg, around ten in the morning, I pulled into a McDonald’s drive-thru to get us some food and coffee. I walked her to the restroom and back. She glared at me like I was her tormentor. Fine, so long as she didn’t fall into the hands of the real deal. Then I got back to driving, focusing on the road, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble.
Undeniable: Dom & Gigi Page 15
