Page 38

CHAPTER 38

SCARLET

Blue lights flash, and sirens scream.

Slowly, realization dawns. I’ve felt this before. The adrenaline rush, the fight for survival, the beating of my heart so loud it pulses in my ears.

Deep breaths.

Blinking.

A forced swallow through a tight, dry throat.

The pounding whoosh dims as the danger abates, and the present bleeds through a clear, unfiltered lens.

“Over there,” a man shouts, and I glimpse one shooter rounding the corner of a building.

Officers take off in pursuit.

A river of blood streams along the pavement from the man Nick shot right in front of me.

Did I take more lives?

“Are you okay?”

Nick stands before me, rubbing my arm. I see him touching me, but I don’t feel it as much as see it. The scene of destruction, much like when I killed Vincent, is observed through an out-of-body experience.

“Scarlet?”

With a whoosh, I snap back to the present. “You threw yourself in front of me? Are you mad?”

His grip on my arm tightens, his expression severe. “I couldn’t let him shoot you.”

“I should shoot you for doing something so stupid. What were you thinking, you stupid man?

“I was thinking that you’re the love of my life, and I’d rather die than let that bastard shoot you.”

I blink.

Anger and relief and repulsion at the bloody scene before me blend.

I focus on Nick, on his concern, on his love.

“When you say it like that, I can’t stay angry at you.”

He pulls me into his chest. I turn my head to allow for oxygen. I’m still holding a handgun and consider dropping it, but instead, I keep hold, careful to remove my finger from the trigger, and lean into Nick.

Fisher approaches. “You two okay?”

He’s shouting to be heard over the shrill and constant sirens.

There were none. Now they’re everywhere.

“We’re good,” Nick says over my head.

“Let’s get you out of the open,” Fisher says.

“Is Sophia okay?” Nick asks.

“She’s taking point with the authorities. We’re making arrangements to transport you once we get clearance. Any idea who these men were?”

“No,” Nick says.

I’m fairly certain he’s already told them this, but we’re all rattled. If it’s like it was with Vincent; he’ll be asked that question a thousand times more. We both shall.

“They’re not Italian,” Fisher says, holding an arm out to usher us into the warehouse.

He’s acting like we’re still at risk, but we’re surrounded by police.

“Could be bounty seekers that didn’t get the cancellation memo. I’d say it’s far more likely they’re mercenaries.”

“Hired by?” Fisher probes.

Nick doesn’t respond, seemingly lost in thought.

“It wouldn’t be the Moores, right? Dorian’s the one who canceled the bounty,” Fisher says.

“Which only means he posted it,” Nick says. “And there’s that message. If Halston’s the Prophet, why would he cancel the bounty? Unless it was to give a false sense of safety.”

“He’s your friend,” I say, sounding stupid.

“Did any of these blokes live?” Nick directs his question to Fisher.

“Ones who got away. We’ll see what we can get from their vehicles. As we ID them, we’ll get more information.”

Sophia steps into the archway and waves for Fisher to join her.

“I’ll be back,” he says and heads out into the open with the authorities.

Nick rests his chin on top of my head, holding me close against him. “Seems our little escapade dug up a few enemies, eh?”

I pull back so I can get a better look at him. I rub my hand over the side of his jaw and dig the edge of my thumb into his goatee. He grasps my wrist and places his lips against my palm.

“Churchill said that it’s good to have enemies. It means you stood up for something.”

“Is that right?”

“You’re a brave man. You don’t fear enemies.”

“No, never did. World’s richest bastard took my family, and I survived. Prospered right under his nose. But that was before you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He’s circumspect.

“You’re afraid of losing me, is that it?”

“Terrified.”

“You don’t need to be. Your enemies are my enemies, remember? They’re the ones who need to be afraid.”

“God, I love you.”

He presses his lips hard against mine, then breaks away, holding my shoulders.

“Where shall we go? I’ve got a place in Copenhagen. If we’re leaving by ship, that’s a mite closer than Greece. I could probably scrounge up a yacht from there that’ll deliver us to Greece undetected.”

“Is that it? We go into hiding?”

He half chuckles. “Do I look like the hiding type? No. We duck out and regroup. Study. The syndicate fractured. To be expected with any self-serving, fluid group. I need to figure out who’s behind this madness.”

“And then?”

“We stop them.”

“I like that plan.”

“Good. After we’ve knocked that out, you and I are going to ride off into the sunset and shag like bunnies.”

“I love you, you know?”

“Oh, that’s been sorted for some time now.”

“Has it?” I’m grinning. This man, he’s always making me smile.

“Oh, yes. You’re my angel. Seems I can’t shake you.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with me.”

“Thank the gods.”