33. Ilias
ILIAS
T he street still reeked of scorched rubber.
I stood with my arm around Galena, her weight pressed tight to my side, both of us a far cry from how put-together we’d looked only an hour earlier when we were heading to the office.
My suit was splattered with blood that wasn’t mine, and my jacket was slashed.
Galena had blood spots on her pants and a few minor cuts on her hands.
Her temple had a thin line of blood from the crash, probably just a graze, but it made me nauseous.
Overall, she still looked like she had come off a runway, even a bit disheveled.
The wrecked Range Rover smoked behind us, its windshield spiderwebbed from the attack.
My pulse hadn't slowed since the moment the first bullet whizzed past us .
Conall lit a cigarette with a flick of his lighter, the glow briefly illuminating the stubble on his jaw that I was sure Francesca would be giving him crap about later that day. He leaned against the wall beside Sergeant Clancy of the NYPD, who was already glaring at me as I neared.
"Fucking hell, O’Kelly,” the sergeant was muttering, rubbing the back of his neck.
"You guys really know how to make a mess. It’s going to be a miracle if I can make all this go away.
Dropping bodies right at lunchtime, for fuck’s sake?
Sorry, ma’am.” He gave Galena an apologetic look as if she cared about his language.
"You’re on our clock, Sergeant," Conall said flatly. “It’s up to you to handle it."
He nodded and looked over at the bodies being bagged with his nose wrinkled as if he didn’t love the fact that our money paid for his kids’ private tuition.
Already, the team of techs was working on the scene in a less-than-meticulous fashion.
I was sure he had hand-picked the people here and sent the more honest ones elsewhere.
The whole report would be changed. That’s what this talk was going to be about, solidifying the phony report that our inside man was going to write up for the NYPD.
Then the evidence would be erased. We’d help with that if needed, but we paid huge money for all of it just to be sure.
It wouldn’t be good to have our ammo or guns in NYPD evidence.
We’d been super cautious throughout our lives to make sure that none of us ended up in lockup.
Conall blew out a stream of smoke. “Clancy here has most of it handled. He’s just going to need to ask some very basic questions for his report.” He gave the sergeant a sharp look that said he meant business.
Dino Scarpato sat in the back of Lev’s black SUV, zip-tied and bleeding from a split lip and a likely dislocated shoulder.
Spiros stood watch outside the vehicle with Alex and Tassos.
Their handguns were holstered now, but they still looked menacing.
I wasn’t quite sure how the police would justify a suspect being taken away in an unmarked car, but I wasn’t going to quibble as Lev got into the vehicle and started the engine.
Furious didn’t begin to describe Dino’s expression.
If he weren’t restrained, he’d have torn someone apart with his teeth.
However, he’d be handled at the warehouse until we arrived.
I’d fantasized about him in his special little grave and the fear that would creep up on him in the hours and days that he’d be stuck in there.
I couldn’t wait. It’d never balance the scales, but at least it would be something.
“I’m Sergeant Clancy.” The officer opened a little notebook and clicked his pen. “Do you need medical help?”
“No.” I knew this was the answer he was looking for. He narrowed his eyes at Galena but wisely didn’t say anything.
He gave a sharp nod. “Ma’am. I understand the man responsible for the attack here is the same one who accosted you previously. Is that correct?” Galena stiffened next to me. “I just need a yes or a no.”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Galena’s lips clamped shut.
Sergeant Clancy nodded at her, rocking on his heels for a moment, looking between Conall and me, and then back at the street.
“And my understanding is that you and your husband here were attacked here in the street by this same person and his thugs in a senseless act of violence. Correct?” Galena nodded.
“Your husband’s bodyguards returned fire in self-defense. Completely understandable.”
He made notes about something, although I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what.
Conall rolled his eyes, but took another drag and blew the smoke out in a long plume.
He was probably going to get hell when Frankie tasted smoke on his breath.
She hated it when he smoked and made sure we all knew about it.
“We would have liked to bring Mr. Scarpato and his men in to answer for all their crimes, but we are aware, based on the numerous shell casings and the crash scene…” He waved casually toward the crumpled Rover as if Galena wasn’t already traumatized enough.
“That your men had a duty to fire back, killing all the assailants, including Mr. Scarpato.”
Galena made a small noise but said nothing, thankfully. Sergeant Clancy closed his notebook, finally looked at me directly, and held out his hand. As I shook it, I tried not to show the slight disgust I felt toward the dirty transaction. “Thanks for your help on this, Sergeant.”
“Have a better day, Mr. and Mrs. Anthakos.” He gave Conall a respectful nod before moving over to the crew processing evidence.
“That’s it?” Galena asked incredulously.
“They’re just going to ignore that we took Scarpato out of here alive?
” She pulled her coat tightly around herself to ward off the chill, and we all started moving back toward the Volkov brothers, carefully making our way through the debris and around the cops. “That’s weird,” she whispered.
“All finished up?” Dimitri looked unbothered as he straightened from his post against Maxim’s SUV.
I knew he was still working in tandem with the MC he belonged to in Arizona and helping Maxim with his West Coast operations of the Volkov Bratva, but the guy was a wild card.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Cop give you problems?”
I opened the door to the second SUV and guided Galena inside. She didn’t protest, but her silence made me wonder if she was really okay. Her temple still oozed a little, and we’d been hit pretty damn hard twice before the shooting even started. “No. We’re good to go. Everything is set.”
“I’ll clean this up," Conall said, giving me a firm nod. "You can get her home and changed before you head over to the warehouse or whatever you’re planning.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. I can’t even tell you. But, put that cigarette out and get a piece of gum. Frankie is going to kill you.” I winked before getting in the car .
He leaned on the doorframe. “You’re not wrong, but you’re still a fucker. I’m stressed. That’s my story. You’ll back me up, right, Galena?”
“You mean tell the truth? Sure. But I’m on your wife’s side on this one.” Galena took my hand as she smiled at me. Conall clutched his chest as if she’d driven a knife into it. “Gotta stick with the ladies. Thanks, Conall. Appreciate you.”
He closed the door behind us and waved at the car as we pulled away from the destruction of the crash site.
Leaning back against the leather seat, I closed my eyes for a moment, laying a hand on Galena’s leg to reassure myself that she was there in the flesh and accounted for.
What a chaotic morning. Granted, we finally had Scarpato.
That was great, but it could have gone so much worse.
Those moments when the cars hit the Rover only emphasized that I couldn’t bear to lose her.
She was the light of my life. Fear had bloomed in my stomach during every impact of every bullet.
Each time one hit, I had wanted to look at her to see if she was okay, and I wondered if my world would stop if she weren’t.
I wasn’t sure I’d breathe again if she were hurt.
“Let’s just go back and change, okay? Have a breather before we go to the warehouse?” I buried my face into her neck for a moment, just breathing the scent of her lotion. “Please? Just for an hour.”
She cradled my cheek, rubbing her fingers against my skin. “Okay.”