Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cold air rushed over Rosemary’s hot face as Nico pushed the warehouse door open.
“Where the hell is Frankie?” he muttered, the fishy smell of his breath assaulting her nostrils.
Whoosh.
Something whizzed past her ear.
Nico grunted, gripped his neck where a dart protruded, and toppled with a mushy whomp, like a felled tree in the forest. Adrenaline flooded her already overstimulated body, making her lightheaded.
She glanced right and then left but couldn’t see anything beyond the small sporadic lights affixed to the warehouse.
Run. Run.
But her body was frozen, the proverbial deer in headlights. A dark figure appeared in the shadows. She managed a few steps backward, her fingertips grazing the knob of the door she’d just come through. Which was safer? Staying out here alone with Kemper or facing the sinister mob inside?
“Rose!”
Her name floated on the breeze as the figure moved closer with swift, agile grace. Her knees weakened.
Aleksei!
She rushed forward, flinging herself into the safe heat of his embrace, relishing the strong arms crushing her against his muscular chest.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Warm breath caressed her neck as he repeated the words.
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have cut you out. I shouldn’t have left without you. I should have let you help me.”
Firm lips grazed her forehead and cheeks. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I was so intent on keeping you safe that I didn’t respect your choices. I was wrong. Love isn’t control, even when it’s well-intentioned. Love is letting people make their own decisions, even when it’s hard.”
“You were right,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to be weak. I wanted to be strong enough to do this alone, but what you said is the truth. Accepting help when you need it is strength, not weakness.”
Warmth seeped into her bones. They’d both been wrong, but everything was going to be all right. A wry laugh shot up her throat. “I just wish I figured that out before Kemper tried to kill me.”
He laid calloused palms on either side of her face. “And I should have figured out that I loved you before I almost lost you.”
She felt weightless, as if his hands on her face were the only things keeping her from floating away.
“Did you say that you love me?”
He lowered his head, and her eyes shuttered in anticipation of his kiss. Firm lips brushed against hers as he said, “I love you, my lovely, bright, precious Rose. I love you.”
Her chest was so full, it might burst. This fierce man who’d been shattered by his best friend’s death was willing to trust her with his heart.
She followed his lead, letting her own lips move against his. “I love you too.”
His tongue invaded her mouth. His hands roamed her back and ass, rubbing and kneading. Her breasts were crushed against his hard chest. Her head spun.
And then he stepped back, chilly air filling the gap between them. The sound of their heaving breaths danced on the breeze. He grasped her hands in his strong, rough fingers.
“We’ve got to get out of here. It’s not safe.”
His words cut through the blissful haze. He was right. They needed to go. There would be plenty of time for kisses later.
Before they could take a step, the sound of revving engines assaulted her ears.
Headlights blinded her as cars screeched into the lot, halting directly in front of them.
She lifted her free hand over her eyes to block some of the glare.
Bulky men in dark suits spilled out of two large black SUVs.
Goose bumps pricked her skin. They looked way too much like Moresco’s henchmen for her comfort.
Aleksei tugged at her hand, trying to pull her behind him, but she stood her ground.
She had already been seen. There was no point cowering behind him.
One of the men pulled open the back door of the second car, and a tall, thin, silver-haired man emerged, carrying a cane. The man’s sharp, accented voice cut through the heavy silence that had settled over the parking lot.
“Voi pirla! Turn off those lights. You are blinding la ragazza!”
One of the men reached into the car and clicked off the headlights, but her eyes still retained bright, shimmery halos of light. Another car door slammed, and a stocky man in joggers, high-tops, and an Eagles jacket bounced around the car to join the older man.
For the second time in minutes, joy flooded her body. If they lived through this, it would take weeks for her adrenal system to recover from the pendulum swings.
“Dante!” she called, dashing forward to embrace him. His body was thick with muscle, and he smelled like sandalwood. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
A throat cleared behind her. She turned to find more guns than she could count pointed toward her, and an amused smile on the older man’s face.
He waved an arm toward his guards. “Voi pirla! Put down the guns. You will scare the life from la ragazza!”
He waved again. This time toward Aleksei, who was being held back by two of the overfed giants. “Let the boy come, but take his weapons first.”
Dante’s bulky hand gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Rosemary, this is Don Lorenzo Moresco, my grandfather,” he offered, his voice warm with affection.
She shifted her gaze away from the guards who were disarming Aleksei and focused on Dante’s grandfather.
Don Lorenzo Moresco was an aged version of Sal, a mirror image of his son, just older, thinner, more wrinkled, and silver-haired—except for his eyes.
Where Sal’s eyes were hard pebbles of arrogant disdain, Don Moresco’s were gentler, suggesting wisdom tempered by compassion.
Her mother always said you could read a soul through a person’s eyes. She hoped her mother was right, and that the kindness in Don Moresco’s eyes would extend to Aleksei and her.
Having been released by the guards, Aleksei sidled next to her, circling a steady arm around her waist and pulling her close.
Dante positioned himself on her other side.
She was sandwiched between one man who loved her and another who respected her enough to trust her with his family’s secrets.
Despite the dark parking lot and the guns, she felt safe.
Just like she’d always felt with her mother and sister.
It felt good to have people to lean on. This caring was what she’d given up by trying too hard to prove her independence.
If she and Aleksei got through tonight safe and sound, she was letting go of her guilt.
She was going to accept the support of her friends and family.
She was going to accept Aleksei’s love and work on building something special together.
“Let’s go inside and sit while you tell me what’s happening,” Don Moresco said.
“I am old. I do not like to stand in the cold.” A large gold ring glinted in the light as he raised a graceful hand toward her.
“My grandson says you are a smart woman, but you do not have the good sense to wear a hat. You must be cold as well.”
A hat? No one else was wearing a hat, but now that he’d put the idea in her mind, her head actually did feel chilly.
Aleksei’s arm tightened around her. “She doesn’t need a hat. She’s a warrior. Her scalp is a badge of honor. She has every right to show it if she wants to.”
Her scalp is a badge of honor. She has every right to show it. She slowly lifted a hand to her head and felt nothing but cool, smooth skin.
Her wig was gone.
She was standing completely bare in front of all these people.
Of course her wig was gone. She’d thrown it at Kemper.
She’d been bald since the moment she ran from that car.
Every person she’d come in contact with since then had seen her bald head.
Frankie and Niko. Sal and his posse of muscle.
Now Dante, Don Moresco, and their guards.
The world hadn’t ended. She was still standing.
Standing with a friend on one side and the arm of the man she loved around her.
Aleksei.
She’d been bald and bare in front of Aleksei this whole time, and he hadn’t said a thing. He’d held her. He’d told her he loved her. He’d kissed her so fiercely, her mind had blanked on the danger they were in. He hadn’t seen weakness or sickness. He’s seen only her.
She dropped her hand from her head, straightened her spine, and pushed her shoulders back. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. Like Aleksei said, she was a warrior. It was time to start acting like it.
“I don’t think your son wants to see me,” she said to Don Moresco. “I think he wants me dead.”
The old man’s eyes turned to polished granite, and she saw a glimpse of what had made Lorenzo Moresco the don.
“You will be safe. My son will do as I say.”
Don Moresco’s voice was strong and sharp as a blade.
She believed him.
* * *
Sitting on a luxurious couch in the middle of a warehouse surrounded by armed mafioso and stolen goods was not the way Aleksei thought he would spend the night, but Don Moresco had been true to his word so far.
Rose was safe, at least for the moment, and tucked at his side.
It was the most he could ask for, considering the FUBAR the day and night had been.
If he and Rose got through this, he would have to tell his mother she was right. The Romani luck she always said he was blessed with had come through in spades.
Christian had answered on the first ring and readily agreed to help, throwing stealth—and likely his job—to the wind by hacking into Kemper’s personnel file, pulling Kemper’s phone info, and then feeding him Kemper’s location.
He and Virus had found Kemper’s abandoned, crashed car and then located the only warehouse with lights on.
He’d incapacitated the guard at the door and left Virus in the bushes, covering the warehouse while Aleksei circled the building.
He’d come around just in time to see that asshole push Rose out the door.
Virus had made a perfect shot with that tranquilizer dart.