Page 33 of No Mistakes (No Mercy #2)

EVA

I’m halfway to the front door when a hand closes gently around my wrist.

“Eva.”

I turn, finding Axel standing in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe like he’s been waiting for me to pass. His eyes drag over my face, searching for something, before dropping briefly to the bag slung across my body.

“You sure you want to do this?” His voice is low, almost quiet enough that I could pretend not to hear him.

I lift my chin, meeting his gaze. “Of course I’m sure. Why?”

He doesn’t answer straight away, just studies me with that unreadable expression of his, but there’s no hiding the edge of worry in his eyes.

“Because it’s not just walking into a bakery.

If someone recognises you somehow, if word gets back…

” He runs a palm over his face, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“I just don’t want you walking into something we can’t pull you out of fast enough. ”

The concern in his voice hits deeper than I expect. It’s tempting to let it sink in, to give him the reassurance he wants, but I’m not about to back down.

“I’ll be fine, Axel. I know what I’m doing.”

He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat rolling off him, close enough that the faint smell of coffee clings to his breath. “I know, but it doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to worry.”

For a second, I can’t look away. His gaze softens, like he’s letting a crack show in that armour he always wears. Then his hand slips from my wrist, slow and reluctant as his fingers brush against mine.

“Just… be safe.”

I give him the faintest smile, more for him than for me, before rising on my toes, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Always am.”

But the way his eyes linger on me as I finally turn away tells me he’s not convinced. I feel the burn of his gaze on my back as I step out onto the porch. The cold morning air biting at my skin, pulling me the rest of the way out of whatever spell he had me in.

I spot Mandy leaning against the hood of the SUV, her hair swaying in the breeze, arms folded tight against the chill. She shoots me a look as I approach, the kind that says she’s ready for this, maybe even a little too ready.

Gunnar’s in the driver’s seat with the window rolled down, sunglasses on even though the sun’s barely there, hidden behind the clouds.

He flicks his eyes from me to Mandy. “You girls ready?” he asks, voice casual but edged with that alertness he never turns off.

Mandy grins, opening the door leading to the backseat. “Born ready.”

I pull open the passenger door and climb in, glancing over my shoulder. Axel’s now standing on the porch, hands shoved into his pockets, watching us as Gunnar starts driving.

I tell myself I don’t care. I tell myself it’s just his way of being in control. But the truth is, I can still hear his voice in my head.

Just… be safe.

And I hate how much I want to come back just so I can see the relief in his face.

We’ve got the perfect vantage point from the SUV as Gunnar kills the engine. I lean forward, peering past him to look at that bakery that is currently wedged between a florist and a hardware store, its big front window glowing against the grey morning.

“Remember,” Gunnar says, his gaze sweeping the street like he’s plotting a security grid. “You’re just two friends getting coffee. We’re using this opportunity to plant the seed and get Chicago talking about a mystery drop.”

From the back seat, Mandy leans between us with a smirk. “We’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been shaving, big guy.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear, adjusting my coat. “We know the drill. Casual, natural, but loud enough for the right ears.”

Through the glass, I scan the bakery. Warm lights seep through the steam on the glass, no doubt from the ovens that are currently making fresh bread.

I spot a few workers moving behind the counter, a row of bread stacked behind them.

Carter showed us a photo of Benny before we left, thick build, square jaw, slicked back hair, which means we won’t have to guess once we’re inside.

“You ready?” I ask Mandy.

“Ready,” she says, rubbing her hands together.

We step out into the cold, the wind biting through my coat immediately. I instantly regret not changing into jeans like Mandy this morning, my legs already stinging with every step I take. We wait for a gap in the traffic, crossing in a small jog to the other side.

The bell above the bakery door chimes as we step inside. Warmth rushes over me, along with a mixture of scents. I inhale sharply, smelling the notes of cinnamon, yeast, butter… and coffee.

The woman at the counter greets us with a bright smile. “Mornin’, ladies. What’ll it be?”

I lean against the counter. “Two lattes to go, please. And two lemon muffins.”

Mandy shoots me a quick side glance that says we didn’t come here for muffins. I ignore it, watching the woman as she bags two golden, sugar-dusted muffins before setting them on the counter.

“That’ll be $18.50,” she says.

I slide a twenty across, ignoring the highway robbery price tag as my purse cries. Now’s not the time to start a debate on muffin economics.

Mandy’s arm brushes mine, the silent cue we’ve used for years on jobs. I follow her glance towards the far end of the counter. There he is. Benny. Polishing a sheet of glass with the force of a man wiping away all his deadliest sins.

We drift closer, close enough to hear the hiss of the espresso machine, but not so close that we’re obviously zeroing in. I pretend to study the chalkboard specials. Rob’s old mantra playing in my head: Hook the fish first.

“So…” Mandy says, her voice casual but just loud enough to carry. “The drop’s still on for tomorrow night?

I give a small shrug, eyes still on the board. “Far as I know. The boss says the warehouse is already lined up.”

“And the cops?” she asks. “We're sure they’ll be in another district?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Benny pause mid-polish. The rag makes one final swipe before he sets it down, turning just enough to face us. He steps closer, looking around us before leaning in closer, and I have to stop myself from choking on the stench of his aftershave.

“So er, you girls doing a drop?” He asks, his voice low.

I glance at him, acting surprised. “You know about that world?”

His smirk widens, shoulders squaring as if he’s about to prepare a renowned speech. “Pfft. Know about it? Sweetheart, I own half the storage space this side of Chicago. If your boss is smart, he’ll ditch whatever hole he’s using and let me set him up proper.”

I tilt my head, playing along. “And that would cost us…?”

“For you ?” His gaze slides down, lingering on my skirt in a way that makes my skin prickle, before drifting back up to my face.

“Let’s just say I’d give you a friendly rate.

Plus, I’ve got friends on the docks. If you’re moving product, I can make sure it comes in and out without a single badge sniffing around. ”

I let a slow smile curl at the corner of my mouth, enough to keep him talking, but not enough to promise anything. “We’ll think about it.”

The woman at the register calls out to us. “Ladies, lattes up!”

We look at Benny, nodding towards him as we move to collect them, but he steps in front of us, blocking our way as he rests a forearm on the glass. “Seriously. Tell your boss, Benny’s got him covered. If he’s smart enough, he will take the offer.”

Mandy tucks the muffins under her arm while I grab the drinks. “We’ll pass it along,” she says lightly, walking ahead of me.

We’re almost to the door when it happens. His hand shoots out, sliding under the hem of my skirt. Fingers pressing against me just hard enough to make me freeze mid-step as he grips onto me.

He sucks in a breath, moaning as he releases me from his hold, and for a split second, I can’t breathe.

Mandy turns, her eyes flash, fury sparking behind them.

“See you girls later, yeah?” Benny shouts, backing away, smirking like he’s just marked his territory. I catch the unmistakable bulge in his trousers, and nausea surges hot in my throat.

Mandy grabs my arm and steers me out into the cold.

“Eva, are you okay?” she asks, her voice tight.

“I’ve nev… That’s never happened to me before,” I manage, my voice cracking.

Her gaze searches my face before darting to the SUV, where Gunnar is already getting out. “Let’s get you home.”

She keeps a firm grip on me as we cross the street, and she pulls open the back door. I slide in, coffee still clutched in my hand like an anchor.

Gunnar returns to his seat, twisting to us, his eyes sharp. “Someone gonna tell me what the fuck happened in there for her to look like this ?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Mandy rests a hand on my arm, answering for both of us. “We need to get back to the house. Now .”