He hurried down the stairs with Luca’s footsteps behind him. He passed the door to the second floor without a second thought. His men were trained to take care of themselves and each other, and the soldiers in the computer lab knew how to protect their data.
It was Angel who need his help.
A series of gunshots came from the basement, reverberating through the stairwell. Nico didn’t want to to think about what it meant that his heart was in his throat, that he was having trouble concentrating when all he could see was Angel in the hands of Carlo’s men. Old school hoodlums who had no sense of honor, just like Carlo.
They reached the door leading to the basement hall. Nico flattened himself against the wall as Luca did the same on the opposite side of the door. Nico tipped his head at the door. He pointed first to himself, then to Luca, indicating that Luca should follow him into the hall.
Luca shook his head. He pointed to himself, then the door.
Nico understood. It was Luca’s job to protect him. Letting Nico run first into a gunfight with members of an opposing family was the opposite of what Luca was supposed to do.
But this wasn’t about Nico. It was about Angel, and Nico would be damned if he’d trust her safety to anyone but him, regardless of how much he trusted Luca with everything else.
He reached for the knob and eased open the door before Luca could say anything.
He glanced into the hall and made a quick assessment of the situation; two of his men at the other end of the hall, blocking the second stairwell, one masked figure in the doorway to Angel’s room. A muffled thud and shout from the open door told him that at least one man was in there with her.
He made eye contact with his men at the end of the hall and gestured toward Angel’s room, hoping they got the message to cover him. He slid into the hall, relieved when a burst of gunfire was directed at the man covering Angel’s room.
Nico thought the man would retreat back into the room, putting him—and whoever was with Angel—on the defensive. Instead, he stepped into the hallway and leveled a steady stream of gunfire at Nico’s men.
They retreated into the stairwell, and two more men stepped into the hall from Angel’s room. But they weren’t the ones who got his attention—it was Angel, held close to the side of one of the men as the other two surrounded them in a protective formation. Nico wanted to roar when he saw the gun aimed at Angel’s temple
He forced his mind clear. He still had the element of surprise. Carlo’s men were busy getting into the hall. They had their eyes on the soldiers at the other end and hadn’t noticed that Nico and Luca were approaching from the opposite side.
Nico steadied his weapon, aiming for the guy in back. When he had his shot, he took it. The man fell with a heavy thud as the bullet entered the back of his head. The other men spun to face him with Angel between them. The one who had ahold of her faced Nico and Luca. The other faced Nico’s soldiers across the hall.
“I’ve got the guy in back,” Luca whispered.
“Only if it’s clean,” Nico said softly. “I don’t want her hurt.”
“You better clear one of these stairwells or we’re going to start shooting,” the guy holding Angel said.
Nico’s gaze slid to Angel, her eyes wide with terror. He forced his eyes back to the man holding her. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by his fear—and Angel couldn’t afford for him to be distracted either.
“Unless you have men hiding in the walls, I’d say you’re probably on the losing end of that deal,” Nico said.
“You can’t shoot us without risking the girl,” the man said.
Nico tuned his ear to the voice, trying to match it to someone he might know in the Rossi family. God help the man who was behind that mask. The man who had Angel.
“And you’ll have to answer for it if we start shooting and something happens to Carlo Rossi’s daughter—if you make it out alive,” Nico said.
He was watching the man’s body language, looking for a clue to his next move, when the guy shoved Angel in front of him.
“Do you think I care what happens to this bitch?”
Nico hesitated. Why was one of Carlo’s men using Carlo’s daughter as a human shield?
“Drop your weapons,” the guy said. “All of you.”
“Do it,” Nico called to his men on the other side of the hall.
They leaned down, dropping the guns slowly. Nico could only hope that Luca knew him as well as he thought he did.
Nico waited until the moment before the guns hit the floor. Then he lifted his weapon and took the shot that had been teasing him since the man had thrust Angel in front of him. The man released his hold on Angel and fell to the floor. A split second later, Luca’s bullet whizzed past Nico’s head in a ferocious blast of gunfire. The other man dropped to the floor next to the one who had been holding Angel.
They stood in the deafening silence for a good five seconds before his men scrambled for their weapons.
“Secure the rest of the house,” Nico ordered, hurrying toward Angel. “I want a casualty report in an hour with details on loss of life and possible data breaches.”
They hurried up the stairs as Nico stopped in front of Angel. She was shaking, and there was blood on the side of her face. He reached up, wanting to make sure it wasn’t hers.
The palm of her hand cracked against his face. “They were coming to get me out of here,” she said bitterly.
He licked a trickle of blood where his tooth had cut his lip, then turned to Luca. “Get her things and take her to my office. Lock the door.”
He strode to the stairs, leaving Luca and Angel alone in the hall.
21
She wanted to fight Luca as he led her up the stairs. She’d been so close to escape. She almost couldn’t believe she was still here.
But all of the fight had gone out of her after the shootout in the basement hall. Now she was crashing, and all she want to do was cry and sleep. And not necessarily in that order.
Luca left her in the center of the room and headed for the door. He turned back to her. “You’re not as smart as you look, you know that?”
The words stung, especially coming from him. “Because I wanted to take my shot at getting out of here?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone so blind.”
He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. A second later she heard him lock it.
She paced the room a couple of times before sinking onto the leather couch against one wall. The office was nice, homier than she would have expected after seeing Nico’s apartment. The big sofa faced a rough-hewn coffee table made out of what looked like oak. There was a flat screen TV on the wall and a row of DVDs, plus a state of the art sound system. On the far side of the room, a massive desk stood in front of the window. The antique clock on Nico’s desk said it was two in the morning.
She leaned back against the couch and took a deep breath. The whole incident in the basement couldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes, but it felt like a lifetime had passed since she’d been tossing and turning in bed.
Her father had come through. Maybe not the way she’d expected—by giving Nico what he wanted, whatever that was—but he’d come for her. Now his men were dead and she was right back where she started.
Do you think I care what happens to this bitch?
She shook her head against the words. The man who’d held her at gunpoint had been bluffing. He knew Nico wouldn’t risk her life.
But… why wouldn’t Nico risk her life? She was nothing but a hostage to him. And on the off chance that she was wrong, that their time together had meant something to him, there was no way her father’s men could know that. How could they be sure Nico wouldn’t hurt her?
The questions ran together in her mind like paint bleeding across canvas. She pushed them away. She couldn’t deal right now. She was both amped and exhausted, and her mind was running in circles.
She spotted a half open do
or across the room and discovered a well-appointed bathroom. She took a clean hand towel off a stack of them and washed her face, trying not to think about the wet slap of blood that had hit her temple when the man holding her was shot in the head. When she was done, she felt a little bit better, and she spent some time fishing around in Nico’s medicine cabinet. She didn’t know what she was looking for—any hope of fighting her way out of her captivity had ended when she’d been witness to the overwhelming show of force against her father’s men. It’s not like she was going to fight her way out with a men’s razor. Even if Nico had a fancy straight-edged one, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he did, she had no doubt that she’d be disarmed in under five seconds.
She would have to be smarter than that.
And there wasn’t anything unusual there anyway. Aspirin (she took two), shaving cream, a brush, cologne. She reached for the blue bottle and pulled off the cap, then held it under her nose. Her eyes closed involuntarily as the scent of him enveloped her.
Nico.
She returned the cologne to the shelf and was closing the medicine cabinet when a voice spoke from behind her.
“Can I help you with something?”
She looked in the mirror and saw Nico standing in the open doorway.
She met his eyes in the reflection. “I think you’ve done enough.”
Silence lengthened between them. He held out a bag. “Here are your things. Let’s go.”
She turned to face him and took the bag from his hands. “Go where?”
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
She followed him into the office. He’d said “we”. Did that mean he was going with her? The idea should have been repugnant after what he’d done in the basement. Instead, relief swept through her, although she couldn’t have said why.
He pulled a duffel bag out of a large cabinet and walked to the closet. He packed some clothes and moved to the bathroom. She heard him rattling around in the medicine cabinet while she clutched the bag to her chest. Less than five minutes later, he put his hand on the door knob.
“Do I need to use a gun to get you to the car?” His expression softened. Or maybe he was just tired. “Because I’d rather not.”
She wanted to fire off some kind of smart-ass reply, but the words stuck in her throat. She shook her head.
“Good.” He opened the door. “Let’s go.”
She followed him down the stairs and onto the second floor. People were scurrying back and forth, running into the hall from a large space at the front of the house, hurrying in and out of the offices on either side of the hallway. There was a smear of blood on one of the walls, and Angel wondered if it belonged to one of Nico’s men or one of the men who worked for her father. What had happened to the men killed in the basement? There was no ambulance, no police. Just the hum of people in crisis mode, doing what people do when something unexpected has happened.
They started down the hall, past the computer lab she’d seen before. Several people were hunched over the monitors, typing and comparing notes, muttering and arguing.
“You’re freaking out over nothing,” one woman said. “They weren’t here for our data.”
“Run the check anyway,” an older man said.
When they got to the end of the hall, Angel saw that for once, the double doors were open. Luca hadn’t been kidding; it was a gym. And not a little one either.
A boxing ring and several bags hung from the ceiling, plus enough equipment to fill a weight room in any modern fitness club. Treadmills lined one wall, and white karate jackets with black belts hung in a row on a metal rack.
Nico held the door open for her. She hesitated, then stepped outside. Her father’s men were gone. Who knew if he’d send more. Nico had proven that he would keep her alive, at least.
It was something.
This time a car, black and low to the ground, lurked outside. It reminded her of Nico, all sleek darkness and mystery.
He held the door open, and she climbed inside. He took her bag and tucked it into the small space behind the front seats. Then he leaned over her, his hands working near her hip. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but his nearness made it impossible to speak. Her nerves were already raw, and it was all she could to keep breathing with him so close to her.
He pulled her seat belt across her lap, his hands brushing her stomach as he slid the buckle into place. His touch was like a fuse, the heat racing to every secret corner of her body.
“All set.” His face was inches from hers, his mouth close enough to kiss.
He stood and closed the door, and she sank back into the plush leather seat and tried to catch her breath.
A moment later he slid behind the wheel. The car started with a low growl, and they pulled out of the alley. Brooklyn was deserted this time of night, the street lights casting yellow circles on the pavement.
“Now can you tell me where we’re going?” she asked softly, more for something to say than because she expected him to answer.
“Someplace no one will find us,” he said without looking at her.
She should have been scared. She wasn’t.
22
She thought he might be taking her home, but they continued past Boston, following signs pointing to Manchester and Portland. By the time the sun started to rise, they’d veered off the highway in favor of the coast. The early morning light cast a blanket of diamonds over the Atlantic, and gulls swept low over the sea, diving for fish. They stopped once for gas, coffee, and restrooms. Nico stayed close, but the truth is, she was in no condition to run. Not now. She was still reeling from the night’s events, still shaking off the memory of the blood on her face from the man who worked for her father. And then there was the failed rescue.
Do you think I care what happens to this bitch?
She stuffed the memory down. The man had been trying to make it out of Nico’s alive. He’d been bluffing, trying to force Nico’s hand so he could return Angel to her father. She’d almost gotten out, and she was still recovering from the close call, the sharp burst of hope that the nightmare was over before the sting of disappointment when she’d been escorted to Nico’s office.
They continued into Maine and up the coast, past Freeport and Bath, Rockland and Camden. She thought they might just keep going to Nova Scotia. She looked over at Nico, his powerful arms on the wheel of the car, dark hair tousled from the breeze coming in the open window, and for one traitorous minute she felt exhilarated at the thought of leaving it all behind. Of hiding out and starting over with Nico.
Finally, Nico pulled off the main road and followed back streets to a town called Bass Harbor. When they got there, Angel saw that it wasn’t so much a town as a little fishing village with a harbor full of boats. Nico parked in a tiny lot and turned off the car. Then he got out, removed their bags from the back, and came around to open her door.
He handed her a bundle of leather, and she saw that it was the same jacket Luca had given her before she met Nico at the Botanical Garden.
“Put this on,” he said.
She slipped her arms into the sleeves, trying to ignore the sensual rush of pleasure as his musky scent enveloped her.
“Let’s go.”
She followed him toward the water. He didn’t seem at all concerned that she might run. She thought of David and her old bitterness returned. Of course, Nico didn’t think she’d run. He’d said it wouldn’t be productive to hurt David, but he had to know she wouldn’t bank on it. Wouldn’t take even the smallest risk with David’s life. All of which forced her to travel more as Nico’s companion than his prisoner.
A lie that would be all too easy to believe if she wasn’t careful.
Several people were boarding a ferry in the harbor, but before they reached it, Nico turned left and walked parallel to the water. They continued for about a half a mile until they came to a small dock nestled on the shoreline. He took her arm and guided her down the wooden planks to a boat tied at the end. They
were almost there when an older man emerged from the cabin.
“Hello, there.” His face was like the craggy shoreline that surrounded them, etched as if the wind and sea itself had worn away at it. Blue eyes sparkled from under a stained baseball cap, and when he smiled, Angel saw that he was missing a tooth.
Definitely not one of Nico’s regular men. They were really off reservation now.
“Ed,” Nico said, reaching out to grasp his hand. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“It’s not a problem, Mr. Vitale. You know that.” His eyes skittered to Angel’s face. “Hello.”
“Hello,” she said.
Nico stepped on board without introducing them, then reached for her hand to help her into the boat. It rocked with the motion of the water, and she stumbled a little before catching her balance.
Nico pointed to a bench at the back of the boat. “You can sit if you’d like.”
She did, and Nico turned his attention to Ed.
“How’s the weather?” he asked.
“Same as always this time of year.” Ed turned a key and the boat’s engine roared to life. He shouted over his shoulder at Nico. “Rough. Cold.”
Nico nodded.
“Mind untying us?” Ed said.
Nico untied the rope and pushed off the dock. The boat moved forward, and Angel grabbed onto the bench as they headed out of the harbor. When they cleared the last ring of buoys, Ed shifted and the boat surged ahead, the wind whipping Angel’s hair back as they sped toward open water.
She turned around, watching the harbor recede behind them, the final falling away of her old life. She faced forward, trying not to panic. Her gaze settled on Nico, as steady on his feet next to Ed as he was everyplace else. How had she come to a place where Nico Vitale was the most familiar thing to her? Where his presence somehow brought her comfort even as she remained his prisoner?
They left the mainland behind, but instead of the open water she’d expected, the glimmer of the Atlantic was broken up by countless islands. Some of them were large enough that they almost looked like part of the mainland. Others were emerald jewels nestled in the fabric of the sea. They passed the ones closest to the harbor and continued out into the ocean, the sky gray and cold above them.
Ruthless: Mob Boss Book One Page 10
