Red Dreams (The Reaper Duet #2)

20. Layla

20

LAYLA

Getting two killers and one half-dead man out of a Mafia-owned nightclub without drawing attention requires a special kind of skill.

Not to mention the pile of bodies we’re leaving behind in the VIP suite.

I massage the back of my neck as Kaden finally breaks his embrace with Cassie. Bodies litter the floor around us, her men stained in a shade of red brighter than the plush maroon carpeting. The metallic scent of blood clogs the air. I’m not sure a window has ever been opened in this room. Definitely not while I’ve been held in here.

“We need to move,” Kaden says, his voice still thick with a storm he refuses to release. He moves to Ethan's limp form, checking his pulse before hauling him up in a fireman's carry.

I wince at the way Ethan sags over Kaden’s shoulder while Cassie chews on the side of her cheek and surveys our environment with new eyes. Abruptly, she hops over two of her former bodyguards with a ballerina’s grace and moves to the panel of monitors.

Kaden shifts Ethan's weight on his shoulder, his free hand moving to his knife. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure the other mafiosi don't see this.” She pauses, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. “They've been circling since Papa died, waiting for his heir to show weakness.”

“And this isn't weakness?” I ask, eyeing the dead men at our feet.

Cassie shrugs but still doesn’t press any keys. “If they see me leaving with the Scythe, some of Papa's most loyal dogs would love an excuse to put me down.”

Kaden makes an annoyed sound in his throat. “We’ll have to deal with them eventually.”

“Maybe not now,” I suggest, all too aware that Kaden is ready and willing to dole out more death, even with a comatose friend hanging off his shoulder, a newly turned daughter and … me.

“There are lieutenants in the club charged with supervising me during the transition of control. They were Morelli's first made men. His most loyal.” Cassie’s fingers brush her throat where Kaden's knife drew blood. “If they see me with you, they'll view it as betrayal. And Papa made sure they knew exactly how to deal with traitors.”

Kaden's patience wears thin, the tension visible in his strained posture as he bears Ethan's drooping form. “All right, erase our tracks by shutting down surveillance.”

Cassie starts typing.

“We can’t leave through normal means,” Kaden adds as he carefully watches what Cassie pulls up on the screens and the prompts she’s entering. “Ethan and I studied the blueprints of this place. An old prohibition tunnel should run under the club to the harbor. We couldn’t pinpoint where the access point was or if an exit from this building existed anymore.”

Cassie lifts her attention to the monitor where she pulls up a schematic of the Siren’s Call. “Yes. It used to be for smuggling booze, but Papa repurposed it.”

She points at a bottom section of the blueprint. “Access is hidden in the wine cellar behind a false wall. It leads to a series of underground passages that come out in a sea cave by the old fishing docks.”

Kaden frowns. “The tide will be high soon. It'll be a tight window before the tunnel floods.”

“Papa liked his insurance policies.” Cassie's voice is dry. “Nothing like the threat of drowning to keep his mules motivated to move the merchandise quickly.”

“How is it possible that the Mafia had such a firm grip on Greycliff? We’re just a small fishing town,” I ask, folding my arms and studying the screens.

“This was a perfect location for smuggling contraband. Tiny population, bare-bones police force, and abandoned warehouses galore. That is, until a bunch of twenty and thirty-somethings moved in and messed with the real estate.” Cassie stares at me pointedly.

Kaden’s too busy searching for threats to notice Cassie’s and my exchange, though I’m focused on the obvious threat in front of me. Cassie’s switch from Morelli to Black is tenuous, at best, and I’m reluctant to make her the leader orchestrating our escape. Ethan’s life hangs in the balance, and while Kaden is lethal and terrific to have on my side, he’s blinded by the idea of getting his daughter back.

Cassie hits the final key, and the monitors wink out. “The cameras are now showing a loop. As far as the security team knows, I'm still in this room with you, conducting business as usual.”

I shudder, remembering her version of “business,” and my precarious faith in her thins further.

She strides across the room, her steps precise even as she avoids the splayed limbs of the fallen men. At the door, she pauses, one hand on the knob as she listens.

Kaden moves up behind her, Ethan's dead weight on his shoulder. “Well?”

“Give me a second,” Cassie sing-songs. “Unless you want to explain to the Family why you're absconding with their newly minted boss.”

I hover behind them, my heart in my throat. The copper tang of blood is thick in my nose. I want out of this room, out of this building, but a shaky alliance with Cassie is almost worse than no alliance at all.

Cassie eases the door open, flooding the room with the thumping bass from the nightclub’s music below. The music bombards us now that we’re leaving our hellscape, but the hallway is empty. She gestures for us to follow.

After taking a deep breath, I do.

We move swiftly, Kaden's heavy boots nearly silent on the carpet runner. “Don’t suppose you can give me my weapons back?”

Cassie flicks her hair to peer at Kaden over her shoulder. “I doubt there’s time. I’m a hot commodity. They’ll be checking on my progress soon.”

She leads us down a maze of corridors, taking sudden turns that disorient me. Just as I'm starting to wonder if she's leading us into a trap, she stops in front of a nondescript door.

“The cellar,” she says, keying in a code on a hidden panel. “Stay close and keep quiet.”

The door swings open on well-oiled hinges, revealing a dimly lit staircase. The air that wafts up is cool and damp, with a hint of must.

Cassie starts down, her fingers dancing along the railing to a hidden tune.

I follow, trying to breathe through my mouth. The stairs are narrow, forcing Kaden to angle Ethan across both shoulders like a hunter with a fresh kill.

At the bottom, Cassie flips a switch. Overhead lights flicker on, illuminating rows of dusty wine racks. She weaves between them with purpose, heading for the back wall.

I hurry to keep up, my eyes darting to the shadows pooling between the racks. It would be all too easy for Cassie to order someone to hide there, waiting to strike.

Kaden's breathing is harsh behind me, Ethan's added weight taking its toll. When I glance back, his face is set in grim lines, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, but his eyes are just as alert as mine.

“Here,” Cassie says, stopping so abruptly I nearly run into her. She's facing a blank stretch of stone wall, her hands skimming over the surface.

“I don't see anything,” I say, my voice hushed. The sounds of the club are muted down here, but I'm all too aware of how thin a barrier a single door is.

With a soft click, a section of the wall swings inward, revealing a dark, gaping maw. The musty smell intensifies, mixed with the briny scent of the sea.

Cassie steps through without hesitation.

“Watch your step,” she warns without glancing back. “The ground's uneven.”

I follow her into the tunnel, my heart hammering against my ribs. The darkness is absolute, broken only by the thin beam of light from Cassie's phone. Behind me, Kaden's breathing is labored as he maneuvers Ethan's limp form through the narrow opening.

The low tunnel is cramped, the walls slick with moisture. I have to duck my head to avoid hitting it on the rough-hewn ceiling. Water drips steadily, echoing in the confined space.

Cassie moves with confidence, her steps sure even in the dark. I stumble along behind her, trying not to think about the tons of earth and stone above us or the rising tide that could flood the tunnel at any moment.

“How much farther?” I ask in a strained voice.

“Not far,” Cassie replies. “Maybe a hundred yards.”

A hundred yards. In the dark, in the damp, with the weight of the club above us and the sea waiting to swallow us.

I've never considered myself claustrophobic, but at this moment, I'm acutely aware of how much stone separates me from open sky.

I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, on the sound of Cassie's steady breathing ahead of me. If she’s not concerned, then I shouldn’t be either, because if I drown, so does she. Then again, I’m not sure what concerns her, if anything at all.

Minutes trickle by, marked only by the dripping water and our rasping breaths. The passage twists and turns, leading us deeper beneath the earth.

“Hear that?” Kaden says behind me.

I strain my ears, trying to listen past the frantic thud of my pulse. There. A distant roar, like the rush of waves against the shore.

“The sea cave,” Cassie says. “We’re almost there.”

I pick up my pace, spurred on by the sweet promise of escape.

The roar grows louder with each step until it fills the tunnel, drowning out all other sounds. Cassie rounds a final bend and stops dead, forcing me to pull up short behind her.

Before us, the passage opens into a yawning cavern. Choppy seawater sloshes against a narrow strip of rock, with the tang of salt heavy in the air.

Cassie steps out onto the narrow ledge, her lithe form silhouetted against the mouth of the cave.

“We'll have to time it right,” she says over the roar of the waves. “The tide's coming in fast.”

I peer out at the churning water, wondering which is worse, being buried alive or drowning?

Kaden comes up beside me, then sidesteps closer to Cassie, Ethan’s limbs dangling like a puppet’s. He edges forward, scanning the waves for a break in the swells. I try to calm my breathing and steady my nerves.

“Get ready,” Kaden says, his voice tight.

On his other side, Cassie grins, ready to leap.

A heartbeat passes. Two. Then Kaden barks, “Now!”

We surge forward as one, sprinting across the slick rock. The ledge is narrow, barely wide enough for a single person. One misstep, one slip, and we'll be swallowed by the hungry sea.

Kaden charges ahead, Ethan bouncing limply on his shoulders. I'm hot on his heels, my lungs burning with the cold, salty air. Cassie brings up the rear, her breath coming in sharp bursts.

We're halfway across when a rogue wave crashes over the ledge, drenching us in icy brine. I gasp, blinded by the salt spray. My foot skids on the wet rock, and I stumble.

A hand grabs my arm, yanking me upright. Cassie. Her grip is like iron, her eyes glinting with mirth in her phone’s light. “Saved ya.”

I blink away the stinging salt. “Am I—do you want me to thank you?”

She laughs. “Of course not.”

She skips around me and continues on.

Once I recover, I notice that the ledge curves sharply to the left, angling up toward a fissure in the cavern wall.

Kaden reaches it first, ducking into the crevice without hesitation. Cassie follows, slipping into the narrow gap. The rock is cool and damp against my skin as I squeeze through, scratching my palms on the jagged stone.

Then we're through, stumbling out onto a rocky beach. The night sky stretches overhead, the stars blurred by a thin veil of fog. The crash of the waves is muffled now, the sea kept at bay by the towering cliff face at our backs.

Kaden lays Ethan down on the sand, his chest heaving.

“Now what?” I ask, my voice nearly lost to the wind.

Cassie scans the beach, her dark hair whipping across her face.

“There's a path. It leads up to the old docks.” She points at a faint track snaking up the cliffside.

Kaden crouches beside Ethan, checking his pulse again. “That path’s too steep to carry him.”

I chew on my lip. Kaden’s right. He cannot manage Ethan’s dead weight up that incline. Not after the toll the tunnel took.

“We need a boat,” Kaden says, pushing to his feet.

“There.” Cassie points at the tip of a small skiff bobbing just out of sight and camouflaged with underbrush. Had she not pointed it out, I would never have seen it.

“It's one of Papa's,” she explains, reading my mind. “For emergencies.”

I don't question what kind of emergencies a Mafia boss might need an escape boat for. I'm just glad it's there.

We hurry toward it, Kaden carrying Ethan in his arms like a damsel now. When we reach the boat, I clamber in and try to make Ethan as comfortable as possible when Kaden sets him down on the bottom of the boat while Cassie unties the mooring line.

“L … Layla?” Ethan rasps, his brows scrunching together while I toss a scratchy wool blanket over him.

“Ethan?” My hands still. “ Ethan? ”

Relief crashes over me, so powerful I nearly collapse beside him.

“What happened?”

His voice is a hoarse whisper, barely audible over the lapping of the waves against the boat. I grip the side for support.

“You're okay,” I say, reaching out to brush his hair back from his forehead. “We got you out.”

He frowns, his gaze drifting past me to take in the boat, the stars, and the fog-shrouded cliffs. “Out?”

Kaden comes into view, taking up position at the outboard motor. Ethan notices.

Ethan struggles to sit up, wincing as the movement pulls at his injuries. I hover, torn between the urge to help him and the knowledge that he probably doesn't want to be touched right now.

“You broke my neck.” Ethan’s mangled hand goes to his throat. He grimaces when his broken fingers take the pressure. “I felt it. I was dying. How…?”

“A trick. A very convincing one.” Kaden shifts his weight, the boat rocking beneath him. “I'm sorry. I had to make it look real.”

A hoarse laugh bubbles up Ethan's throat. “Real? My broken fingers are sure as hell real.”

“Hey,” I say softly, finally giving in to the urge to touch him, my hand resting on his shoulder. “I know. What Kaden did ... it's a lot. But he did it to save you. To save us both.”

Ethan catches my eye, searching. For what, I'm not sure. Reassurance? Sanity? An explanation for the nightmare he's just woken up from?

“You're really okay?” he asks, his voice small and uncertain.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak around the lump in my throat.

Ethan’s attention slides suddenly to the left and over my shoulder. I follow his movement in time to see Cassie flutter a wave at him from her seat.

“The fuck ?” Ethan goes ramrod straight.

I wince at Ethan's reaction, glancing between him and Cassie. Her smile is sharp with amusement as she watches Ethan's confusion morph into panic.

“It's okay,” I say quickly, trying to draw his attention back to me. “She's with us now. Sort of.”

Ethan's gaze darts from Cassie to Kaden, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. “With us? She's Morelli's daughter. She's the one who kidnapped you in the first place!”

“Things have changed,” Kaden says, his voice low and even.

Cassie’s smile widens. “I’ve had a change of heart.”

Ethan barks out a harsh laugh. “A change of heart? Is that what we're calling it when the daughter of a psychotic mob boss decides to switch teams?”

Kaden's head snaps around.

“Watch your mouth,” he growls.

“Homicidal tendencies must be genetic,” Ethan mutters.

Cassie leans back, crossing her arms over her chest. “To be fair, I wasn't going to kill Layla. Not permanently, anyway.”

I shoot her a sharp look, silently begging her not to make this worse. She rolls her eyes, then settles back against the side of the boat like she’s on a pleasure cruise.

“Ethan, please,” I say, turning back to him. “I know it's a lot to take in, but we don't have time for this right now. We need to get out of here before Cassie's men realize we're gone.”

Ethan scrunches his eyes shut, then opens them again, as if forcing himself to realize this is his new reality. “Are we just setting sail into the sunset with the Scythe and his long-lost daughter, hoping they don't slit our throats in our sleep?”

“Kaden saved our lives back there,” I say softly. “And Cassie … she’s the reason we made it out. We have to trust her. At least for now.”

The motor roars to life under Kaden’s direction, startlingly loud. The little boat surges forward, cutting through the waves toward the hazy glow of lights that mark Greycliff's harbor.

I huddle against Ethan, providing him with my warmth, and I’m relieved, so relieved, that he’s alert, pissed off, and talking. As the boat skims over the choppy waves and the salt spray cleanses my face, I press my hands against my stomach, feeling the damp fabric of my shirt. It’s sticky with blood—my blood, other men’s blood, and Kaden’s.

I glance down at my wrists, rubbed raw from the ties that bound me. The skin is broken and bleeding in places, a tangible reminder of the horrors I endured. Every breath aches in my bruised ribs, and I can feel the sting of cuts on my face from Cassie's precise blade work.

But I'm alive. Against all odds, I survived. We survived.

My gaze drifts to Kaden, his dark form rimmed with stars. The man who tortured Ethan, who threatened to end his life in front of my eyes. The same man who whispered reassurances to me in the dark, who stepped between me and certain death. I know it's wrong, this pull I feel toward him. He's dangerous, lethal, a killer forged in the fires of a hell I can't even imagine. But in a world that has shown me nothing but cruelty, his fierce protectiveness feels like shelter, like safety.

As if sensing my attention, Kaden glances my way, his arctic eyes finding mine unerringly in the dark.

I bite my lip and hug my knees to my chest, trying to steady my racing heart. It's wrong, I know, to crave the feeling of safety that comes with being his.

He looks at me like he wants to devour me, like he would lay waste to this boat and let us drown so long as he was inside me while we did.

I know I should look away, should focus on Ethan's battered form huddled beside me or the dark stretch of coastline looming ahead. But I can't seem to tear my gaze from Kaden's or stop the heat from pooling low in my belly at the unspoken vow in his eyes.

It's a reckless desire, a dangerous longing. But as the boat races toward the distant shore and the dark spires of Greycliff loom out of the fog, I can't find it in myself to care.

At last, I’m able to tear my gaze away and drift to Cassie instead, perched at the prow like a figurehead, her long black hair tangling in the wind.

She looks back at me and winks.