Chapter 30
Trinity
“Open the damn box, Trinity.”
“I’m trying! Don’t yell at me!” I claw at the tape with my nails, my fingers trembling as Brody drives as fast as possible down the narrow residential street.
This is no place for a game of Catch the Minivan. There are walkers, joggers, bikers, electric scooters, and dog walkers everywhere. Despite that, Brody’s handling the situation the way he has every harrowing “event” we’ve suffered through thus far.
I touch his veiny forearm, the muscles shrink-wrapped beneath olive skin and ink. “Can I do anything to help?”
He slants me one quick glance. “Oh, now you’re talking to me?”
“I was never not talking to you.” I jerk my hand back and curl it into my fist on my lap. “There’s a lot happening. I was just processing.”
“Processing.” His knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. “Sure.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Hold on.”
He takes a sharp right next to a park. I grab the dash, my heart flying in my throat.
The walkers-joggers-bikers-skaters just multiplied like mosquitos after a heavy rain. “We should get out of the city. Otherwise, we’re going to kill somebody, and we only murder bad people, right?”
“‘We’ don’t murder anybody. Get your shit together and open the box.”
Brody blows through a yellow light that changes to red before he enters the intersection, causing one of the innocent bystanders to scream. “Look where you’re driving!”
I clutch my seat belt, too scared to watch the Dodge narrowly scraping its way through pedestrians but also too anxious to glimpse away.
Brody continues accelerating down the street. “We want to be in a high traffic area. We can’t out-drive them, so we need to slow them down and give them a reason to not shoot our tires out.”
He checks the rearview mirror, and I spin around to peer through the back windshield.
The caravan of Escalades is close, just a few cars separating us from the leader of the pack. “I should’ve killed Andrei when I had the chance.” I face forward, clutching the half-open box to my chest. “I’m sorry.”
“We’d be getting chased by Andrei’s thugs whether you killed him with that frying pan or not.” Brody shoots me the briefest of smiles. “And you’re no killer, princess.”
His words are meant to be kind. Reassuring. How he finds the time to provide encouragement when he’s literally driving for our lives is beyond me. Even while my common sense screams at me to not get any more attached, warmth spreads in my chest like wildfire.
Two nights ago, after the best sex of my life, Brody switched on the dome light to find a spare shirt to clean up, and all I could fixate on was the trail of blood running down the back of his leg.
He pulled a stitch. Not a big deal, in the grand scheme of things, but…it felt like a message.
A reminder from the universe about the fragility of love. That what I love dies.
Since Angelica passed, my life has been a long, lonely walk of penance. Solitude is my destiny. This is how I’ve maintained focus on finding the people responsible for her death.
I can’t bring her back. My mission to hunt down her murderers is all I have left, and I need to walk that path alone.
Still, my walls cracked for the first time when we spent the night in the minivan. Brody busted through concrete-reinforced steel with a wrecking ball. As the stone broke free, I saw my life’s purpose slipping away.
I felt more naked in that moment than I did in that safe house bathroom when he watched me shower. If I keep letting this man expose me, I’ll lose him just like I lost Angelica. I’ve already witnessed him dodge death a dozen times since we met.
There I was, enjoying my post-sex high, riding on a tidal wave of oxytocin, picturing a future together.
And then his wound started seeping tears of blood.
A warning. A curse.
The warmth bubbling up in my chest congealed, clogging my throat and choking out any hope of the happiness I don’t deserve.
I don’t get to keep him. I never could.
Brody pulls into the parking lot of a busy strip mall, cruising slowly. “Do you have the drive?”
The hard drive sits in my hand, barely bigger than a credit card. My life’s work condensed to a piece of plastic lighter than a paperweight. Stomach churning, I pass it into Brody’s waiting palm.
I never expected to tell anyone about this, let alone willingly hand it over.
I must trust him, one way or another.
Brody stuffs the drive into his front pocket, wincing as he stretches his leg.
His wound is likely leaking again. My own leg twinges in sympathy, but I swallow down my concern and force myself to focus on the present.
“What are we doing here? I thought we needed to stay on the street.”
“As soon as I park, get out and run that way.” He points between an organic market and a hair salon.
“Okay.” I won’t question him. He’s kept me alive this far, so he must know what he’s doing. “Are you coming?”
He grins, not quite a happy expression, but definitely excited. “You’re not getting away from me yet.”
The minivan screeches to a halt between a Jeep and what I’d call a monster truck. Plenty of worse hiding spots.
Before he even throws the gear into park, my feet hit the pavement. I sprint as fast as I can.
Brody races by my side, his palm grazing my lower back. Probably just to ensure I don’t try to run off on my own. “What’s the plan?”
“We hide in plain sight.”
I glance around. “Where? Like at a football game?”
Huffing out a noise that almost passes for a laugh, he points. “There.”
He steers me toward a door tucked at the end of a row of shops, Three AM shining above in bright neon.
We ease into a walk as we approach a tall, burly man in a black muscle shirt who’s guarding the door.
Is that a…bouncer?” “What is this place?”
Brody slings an arm around my waist. “You really didn’t indulge in the college experience at all, did you? This is an after-hours club.” He fishes out his wallet and grabs a crisp hundred-dollar bill, nodding as he passes it off to the bouncer.
The guy, a bigger and beefier Brody with even more tattoos and a bald head, looks me up and down as he slides the money into his back pocket. “ID?”
Well, hell. How do I explain that I left my license in California when this handsome devil kidnapped me, but I pinky promise I’m twenty-two?
Brody peels two more hundred-dollar bills out of his wallet. “She’s of age but lost her purse.”
The man pockets the money and shuffles aside.
Oh. Guess that works.
Brody nods at me from over his shoulder and intertwines his fingers with mine.
The feeling of them inside me floods my memory, zinging electricity through my body as he drags me through the door.
Thumping base thrums from my feet up to my ears. I blink a few times, trying to adjust to the instant darkness before Brody guides me past a curtain and onto the dance floor.
A kaleidoscope of color and people assaults my eyes.
We stand in a huge, cavernous space that definitely shouldn’t fit into the building I saw from outside.
Black walls covered in neon and graffiti surround us all the way up to the ceiling.
Spiral staircases lead up to small balconies where clubbers drink, talk, and disappear under tabletops.
The floor sticks to the bottom of my shoes, and the crush of bodies warms my skin.
The cloying scent of sweat and alcohol and musk invades my nose and throat.
I peek up at Brody with wide eyes. What the hell are we doing here?
He cracks a smile as he bends close to my ear, his teeth glowing purple in the black light. “Follow me.”
Like I have a choice. I’m not about to let him lose me in this place.
He leads us to the center of the dance floor and yanks me close.
I’ve never been to a club. I definitely don’t know how to dance. Granted, a quick glance tells me that absolutely no one is paying any attention. Everyone’s drunk, high, or too busy sucking face—and other things—to notice us.
I find myself scanning the room for scary men dressed all in black or the gleam of a gun pointed my way. The calm of the last few days spoiled me, only for the universe to yell, Psyche! A scream at life’s unfairness bubbles up at the back of my tongue.
Brody’s hands find my hips and tug me closer, and just like that, my mind blanks.
Maybe he’s attempting to blend in, but he’s holding me like we’re at a middle school dance and the principal’s watching.
Even with zero experience, I know that this will draw eyes rather than help us hide in the crowd.
“Here.” I move his hands lower so he can grab a fistful of my ass in each palm. “Pull me into you like you mean it.”
With a raised brow, he obeys. Heat blazes through my veins when I feel him halfway to an erection.
I glance up at his face to find him scanning the crowd, all business, and scowling into darker corners.
So much for blending in.
I grab his cheeks and guide his face toward me.
Between the strobe lights and the bass still pumping through my limbs, I feel like I need to yell to catch his attention.
“Don’t use your normal enforcer glare, or they’ll spot us.
” I drop my hands to his chest, resting them on the black t-shirt that’s growing moist from all the body heat. “Relax.”
I sway my hips in time with the beat, coaxing his to join the movement. Every time I graze his cock with my pelvis, he grows a little harder.
At least part of him enjoys this.
The next time I risk a peek at his face, his eyes go wide and his body tenses against mine, and not in the fun way.
I crane my neck, tracking his gaze across the hazy room.
Six men in dark camo barrel through the fringes of the crowd, like a herd of angry bulls crashing a party of playful flamingoes.
Shit!
I grasp the front of Brody’s shirt. “Kiss me. Now.” I yank him into me with so much force, our teeth clink.
The distraction tactic works. He sinks his tongue into my mouth and flips the switch in the blink of an eye.
I curl a leg around him, pressing my clit onto his cock. As his tongue plunges into my mouth, he digs his fingers into my ass.
If we live to talk about it, this kiss will be our salvation. If we don’t, well… Death by kiss isn’t a terrible way to go.
I’m sweaty from the heat of all these bodies and absolutely drenched between my legs. I bet if they turned the lights on in this place, my pants would be soaked.
When Brody pulls away, a pathetic little moan slips from my lips.
He scans the room. “We’re good. They’re gone.”
Disappointment whistles through me like a deflating balloon, and I swallow a sigh. “I guess we should go, then?”
“In a minute.” Brody guides me off the dance floor to pin me up against a wall in the shadow of a balcony. “I’m not sure I’m quite finished with you.”
I shiver, a new kind of warmth flaming through my body.
“Oh?” I slide my arms around his shoulders. “And just what do you have in mind?”
He fits his knee between my legs, his uninjured thigh grinding against me. “What does your psych degree say about exhibitionism?”
I choke on a moan, my eyelids fluttering as pleasure swirls through me.
“I…might’ve missed that lecture.” I clutch at his arms. “Brody…please.”
He laughs, low and deep and right against my ear. The noise vibrates through my entire body, humming under my skin with the bass until it settles in my core.
“We can find out together.” He laps at my neck, his teeth nibbling at the soft flesh of my throat. Who knew I’d love that little sting of pain?
I rake my hands down his chest to his pants, cupping the tight bulge under his fly. I groan over how hard he is and rock my hips against him, desperate for friction. “Brody.”
“I got you.” His hand dips to the front of my pants and unfastens the button.
Public sex wasn’t exactly on today’s to-do list, but at this point, I don’t even care. I just need him inside me, now.
I fumble with the zipper of his jeans. He groans when my fingers finally brush against his cock through the fabric of his boxers.
Just the heat of it has me seeing stars. I can’t wait—
A glint of light over Brody’s shoulder snags my gaze. I gasp and shove his arm. “Behind you!”
Spinning, and with his elbow out, he cracks the Russian man’s jaw with a horrible crunch.
As the mercenary cries out and totters, Brody snatches his gun before I can even blink.
He kicks at the man’s legs, sending our assailant crashing to the sticky floor.
And just like that, we’re on the run again.