“It was worth a shot,” I chatter back.
“La puttana.” He stashes it somewhere on his body before yanking me forward.
I barely have time to silently celebrate that he didn’t find my phone before freezing water soaks my jeans and sends my chattering jaw into overdrive. “What the?—?!”
“Boat.” He gives a tug and it’s only by luck I don’t pitch headfirst into the lake. The goon shines the flashlight on the water. Sure enough, a dinghy is bobbing violently a few yards ahead of us. Lake Michigan is massive, larger than some seas. We’ll die in that pathetic contraption, especially in a storm.
I don’t move, the insanity of what I’m doing threatening to drown me. But no matter how reckless, how dangerous, I can’t go back now.
I move to the floating death trap, my lower body numb, and choke with relief when the thug’s flashlight stretches out in front of us, catching the silhouette of a sleek yacht anchored farther offshore. Who knows how it handles during a storm, but at least we won’t drown at the first big wave.
A few more steps and we’re into the dingy. We both drip onto the planks as the man grunts, throwing the flashlight down and manhandling the oars until we start to shift in the yacht’s direction.
A swell of water hits us almost instantly, rocking the toy boat from side to side. No matter how cold I am, I can’t stifle the scream.
“Hold on tight. You go over, that’s where you stay.”
Snow engulfs us as the waves buckle harder beneath us. I grip the sides of the dingy as best I can with my frozen fingers. I don’t dare let go to reach for the flashlight. The spool of light is focused on our feet. Beyond is nothing but darkness, the mansion and the men inside it lost to the night.
35
SERA
The trip across the lake is a blur of snow and soaked skin. By the time the dinghy gets to the yacht, both of us are wet through.
It doesn’t get better on board. We join one more of Renzo’s guys. Neither offers me a towel. The one from the dinghy gives me a rough shove until I’m sitting on the deck, huddled into my wet coat and trying not to freeze to death.
I could be warm, in bed, with Alik. I bury the thought before it can bob too long on the surface. I can’t think about that right now. Can’t think about him, either. I picked my battle, now I have to fight it. For us both.
I need to focus.
I need to survive.
I lose all sense of time. We reach the dock. I have no idea how long we’ve been in the boat or where we are, only that we’re nowhere near the city. The dock is meagerly lit, the two men cursing and complaining as they maneuver the boat into the slip.
“You. Out,” the second one says as he cuts the engine. The first guy has already hauled me upright. My feet are nothingbut pins and needles. Every step is painful, but I make myself move. There’s no way I’m asking either of these two for help. By the time I’m off the boat and up the dock, I’ve gained back some feeling. Enough that I can walk toward Renzo di Salvo without tripping and falling flat on my face.
Renzo’s men flank me as we join him next to an oversized black Mercedes sedan. His greeting is one hundred percent on brand. “You look like shit.”
“Seasick,” I say. “Your men are shitty sailors.”
Renzo eyes the goons on either side of me. “Did they touch you?”
“Only to take my gun away.”
Renzo’s tight-lipped smile returns, as ugly as ever in the glow of the car’s headlights. “Good.”
Before I’m able to process what’s happening, Renzo pulls out his weapon and shoots both men. Each drop after a single bullet to the head, the rapport of the shots muffled by the dense snowfall.
I bite the inside of my mouth to stop from screaming. “Why kill them?”
“The Albanian hates witnesses. And given the fucked-up situation I find myself in with him, the Albanian gets what the Albanian wants.”
“But they wereyourmen.”
“Save your indignation for someone who gives a fuck. You already know it isn’t me.” Renzo turns toward the car. “When will you learn, Princess? Loyalty means nothing in this world. Only money. Speaking of…” He opens the rear door on the driver’s side. “Time to take care of business.”
I don’t have a chance to hesitate. Renzo grabs my upper arm and manhandles me into the car. Hot air envelopes me, along with an overwhelming amount of cologne.