Nicolai puts the car in reverse. Before he slams his foot on the gas, I lean toward the window and say, “You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
The tires spin, kicking up sand and rock. Luca steps away from the window before the car lurches back. The headlights put a spotlight on the broken-down cabin as it streaks across the desolate field to a narrow stretch of pavement. Nico drives over potholes and cracks on this road long-forgotten by anyone who doesn’t have something to hide. Entire sections of the road have crumbled to nothing, and nature moved in to reclaim the space.
Letting out a sharp breath, he white-knuckles the steering wheel and floors the accelerator. The numbers on the speedometer increase to sixty, eighty, one hundred miles per hour. But it doesn’t feel fast enough, and no distance feels far enough from Luca.
“Did he touch you?” Nicolai asks in a tone in direct contrast to the speed outside the car.
One hundred and two. One hundred and five.
“No,” I say.
The gauge tops out at one hundred and twenty miles per hour. I tighten the seat belt across my chest, gravity heavy in my lap. The condition of the road improves the farther we race, and it feels like we’re flying. And it’s still not enough.
“Why did he let me go?” I ask.
Slowing down as we approach a main highway, Nico meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know.”
“This seems too easy.” Coming to a complete stop at something as inconsequential as a stop sign in the middle of nowhere, I ask, “Is David really dead?”
Nico returns his concentration on the road. “Yes.”
Other cars eventually join us on the highway, and a sign on the side of the road readsGRAND HAVEN 11 MILES. Tears stream down my face, slow and quiet as the night catches up with me. I’ve only been gone for ten hours, but as the city comes into view, everything changes.
The mafia has woven themselves into society and distorted the line between citizen and criminal. Cheating dentists, sleazy glass men, and runner-up lawyers aren’t on the wrong side of good like I thought. The real danger is in the midnight meetings Wilder and Talent have once a month, it’s the fifty percent Lydia is forced to pay, and the prince returning with crosses on his hands.
It’s money, corruption, and killing someone as renowned as David Ridge.
The city lights have dimmed, the streets aren’t as clean, and the buildings don’t stand as tall as they did hours ago. Wilder kept his promise, and Grand Haven leveled under his rage.
In a world with two sets of rules, the art displayed in studio windows looks like props, stoplights are mere suggestions, and the police unit parked in front of a 24-hour eatery is nothing more than wishful thinking.
And as we approach the Ridge & Sons skyscraper, the only building left towering over Grand Haven with its sleek exterior and prominence, it no longer feels like a place of business but a church. It’s a sanctuary, and love is the religion. Warmth burns inside of me, my heart hastens, and the slow tears streaming down my face turn swift, and I know it’s God’s warmth.
“Go,” He says, like He did that very last day in the closet three years ago. “Go.”
Nicolai pulls into the parking garage and hasn’t stopped the car yet when I open the door and run, my shoes skidding on the smooth concrete floors. Through my tears, the fluorescents bathe Wilder in a holy light, and I cry out for him before jumping into his arms.
“Baby,” he says, turning his face into my neck and exhaling a breath held for too long. He doesn’t know where to hold me, so he touches me everywhere. His hands slide down my sides, over my back, and across my arms secured tightly around his neck. Wilder chants, “Baby, baby.”
He takes my face between his hands, and his expression crumbles when he sees what Luca has done to it. I press my forehead to his. “I’m okay now,” I say. “I’m okay.”
Reunited, it’s easy to forget what got us here. The parking garage, the city—the rest of the world dissolves, and all that’s left is our twin hearts and whispered declarations. Church is in session, and I’m a fucking believer. But Lydia grabs me by the back of my sweatshirt, breaking the connection. Reality is darker than the trunk of Luca’s car and faster than driving one-hundred miles per hour down a scarcely paved road. It’s life or death.
Wilder lets me go, and Lydia keeps a firm grip on my hoodie. “Don’t say a word, Camilla,” she says. “Don’t move. You’re a fucking queen. Act like it.”
Nicolai parks in a spot facing the street as if he’s here for a meeting during business hours. He sets the alarm and pockets his keys, scratching his forehead as he walks over to join his father’s side. They may have been preparing to have this meeting in the office, but no one gets on the service elevator when the doors open.
“The hit on your father was unsanctioned,” Giovanni says, his voice an echo in the empty parking garage. The darkness outside boxes us in, even though I can see the traffic signal turn from yellow to red. It seems so distant. “He was a respected man. Whoever did this will pay.”
Wilder, Lydia, and Talent form a wall in front of me, and I only see bits and pieces of Giovanni and Nicolai over their shoulders and between their arms. Gio’s hair looks like it dried against a pillow, deep-set lines cut around his eyes, and he’s dressed in sweats and a Member’s Only jacket, like he was pulled out of bed. Nico crosses his arms at his waist, with the decency to look ashamed but the audacity to be defensive.
“Gio,” Talent says in an unrecognizable voice. Only his profile is visible to me, but a curl has fallen over his forehead. “Now isn’t the time to act dumb. We all know who did this.”
“Watch your tone, Talent,” Nico warns, nostrils flaring. “Remember who the fuck you’re talking to.”
Tangerine eyes find mine in the space between Lydia and Talent, each of us recognizing the words previously spoken by Luca.
“I haven’t forgotten,”Nico had replied.“It just doesn’t matter anymore.”
