Page 107

“Wait a minute.” My father clambers out of the rear door. He comes around the car and pulls me into a fierce embrace. I inhale the scents of my childhood, lingering even here, on the Thai night. Earth and sweat, the uncomplicated smell of a man who’s spent his life in honest labor.

A man who never deserved to be saddled with the kind of trouble I brought to his door.

“I’m so sorry, Dad,” I whisper into his chest. “For everything.”

“Don’t you be sorry. Ever.” He steps back and grips my face tightly, his eyes holding mine. “Look. I know I’m lousy at words. But I love you, girl, okay? More than bloody anything.” He crushes me to him again, and this time, I can’t help the tears spilling from my eyes. “Don’t you forget that,” he says gruffly. “And come home to us. No matter what happens, Abby. Just come back, alright?”

I nod against his chest, unable to meet his eyes. I know my chances of ever seeing either of my parents again are minimal, at best.

But they don’t need to know that.They need to believe I will be safe.

“I love you too, Dad. And Mum. Will you tell her that from me?”

“Of course I will.” He kisses the top of my head and turns me around, his hands on my shoulders as he looks at Dimitry over my head. “Take care of my daughter,” he says roughly.

Dimitry nods curtly. “Always.”

I can barely see through my tears as I stumble toward the boat.

“Please protect my parents,” I whisper to Luke as he hands me into the shallow cockpit, clutching his hand and trying not to look at the thickset silhouette of my father by the car.

“Don’t worry, Abby.” Luke’s easy smile is as reassuring as ever. “I’ve got half a dozen nasty bikies on their way to the farm as we speak.”

“Bikies?” I stare at him in surprise.

He nods, grinning. “They used to be Banderos, but they’ve recently become... free agents, shall we say. Handy boys when it comes to guns. Think you might have met one of them. Fat bastard by the name of Turbo?”

I give an odd hiccup of laughter despite myself. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Luke lets go of my hand as Dimitry steps into the cockpit beside me. “Handed in his colors the same week they made him guard you. He leaped at the chance to make amends for what happened to you.”

I shake my head. “Tell him thanks. And that he was actually the nicest of all the guards I’ve had.” Luke nods, shakes Dimitry’s hand, and walks back to the car.

Paddy sticks his head under the canopy and grins at Dimitry. “Remember what I told you, cock. Head south down the river, and you’ll be on open water by dawn.”

18

Dimitry

Bangkok, Thailand

“Lie down in the bottom of the boat.” I steer the vessel out into the busy canal, keeping the engine running low. “There’s an old canvas you can cover yourself with. Just stay hidden until we’re away from the center of the city.”

Abby lies down, drawing the canvas over her head.

At least that hides the bruises on her face.

My fist clenches around the tiller.

Why did she stop me from killing the man who gave them to her? And what if the bastard did worse than give her bruises?

The boat jerks, and I force myself to focus on steering between the river traffic. The boat Paddy bought for us is an engine-powered longtail, typically used to ferry passengers. This one is on the small side and fairly shabby, which I hope will help us escape notice. It’s about ten meters long, with a high prow, flat body, and an overhead canopy. Abby is curledbetween two of the bench seats. She’s lost so much weight she barely makes a dent under the crumpled canvas.

I’m almost grateful for the busy waterway that makes conversation impossible for the time being.

Because after months of thinking of nothing but what I would say to Abby if I ever saw her again, now that we’re face-to-face, words have completely fucking failed me.

Were you planning to come back to me?