Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Enzo sensed the subtle deceleration of the train, which made his pulse kick harder instead of easing.
Paris Gare du Nord loomed ahead; crowded, chaotic, and crawling with opportunities to die badly if he miscalculated.
And not just for him. Every decision he made from here on out affected Kathleen as well.
His gut knotted, and a fine line of tension tightened across his shoulder blades.
He could not let the worst-case scenario happen.
He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Kathleen got hurt. He couldn’t bear it.
Outside the couchette door, boots shifted.
In the six hours of the journey to Paris, Dominic’s men hadn’t moved from the ends of the hallway since Nice.
They stomped past as they rotated positions, whispered, and leaned against the corridor wall across from the entry to their accommodations like bored commuters.
They talked loudly, letting the occupants know of their ongoing presence.
Each time he or Kathleen cracked open the door, the thugs were still there.
Dominic himself hadn’t reappeared since the dining car.
He wouldn’t lower himself to do the actual stalking.
His presence alone was pressure enough, or so he thought.
But they moved now. He knew they were just on the other side of the door.
Dominic was with them. They wouldn’t risk losing him and Kathleen.
Vitale would have their heads if they did, quite literally.
He’d beheaded someone before according to the rumor that raced like wildfire through every family.
Maybe he was learning from his cartel friends.
Kathleen sat on the edge of the berth, shoulders straight, jaw tight. She met Enzo’s gaze and held it.
“They’re still there,” she said quietly.
“I know.”
“Do we have any kind of a plan?”
Enzo ground his teeth. “Not so much a plan as an idea. We need an opportunity we can exploit.”
Kathleen studied him. “You’re saying we play it by ear.”
“I know it doesn’t sound like much, but we don’t have much to work with.” His stomach knotted. He wanted to do better by her. She deserved to be safe. Deserved to live a normal life. Deserved a hell of a lot more than this.
Her pretty red hair swayed as she shook her head. “I get it. We stay flexible and strike when the opening appears.” She offered him a small, steady smile. “I’m okay with that.”
Then her gaze shifted, just a flicker, to the compartment window. And she froze.
Enzo followed her line of sight.
On the platform outside, half-turned as if checking the departure board, stood a man who didn’t belong to the chaos. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. A tailored coat that looked expensive without trying. The man glanced up.
Kathleen sucked in a breath.
“Oh my God,” she murmured. Then, louder, “Dragan.”
The man’s head snapped upward as if he heard the sound, although that was impossible in the cacophony that was Paris Gare du Nord. His expression shifted instantly, from alert to focused to something warmer when his eyes locked on Kathleen.
He smiled. Not polite. Not casual.
Intimate.
Enzo’s instincts flared hard and fast.
Kathleen was already on her feet. “Enzo,” she said under her breath, excitement threading through the tension, “that’s Dragan. He works for the Callahans. Better yet, he’s fucking awesome at what he does.”
“How do you know he’s so awesome?” Enzo asked, not liking the sudden heat in his chest.
Before she could answer, Dragan lifted his chin in a subtle, deliberate nod. Then, barely perceptible, he tapped two fingers against his thigh and turned away, heading toward the stairs at the far end of the platform.
Enzo processed it instantly.
Kathleen grabbed his arm. “Because he helped get Connor back, and he was my bodyguard for a while. He’s here to help us.”
“You trust him?” Enzo asked. He wasn’t pleased at the tone of Kathleen’s voice when she spoke the other man’s name.
“Yes.” No hesitation. “Completely.”
The brakes screamed as the train shuddered to a halt.
The doors unlocked with a heavy click. Enzo cursed softly, then cupped Kathleen’s face and dropped a hard kiss on her mouth.
“I’ll protect you to the best of my ability.
If I tell you to do something, do it. No arguing. Don’t look back. Don’t wait for me.”
She started to protest. “Enzo, we can do better if we stay—”
“Please.” He didn’t want to have to explain everything. There wasn’t time.
She searched his face, then nodded. “Okay.”
Activity exploded in the corridor. Passengers surging, luggage banging, voices rising. The compartment door rattled as someone brushed past it. Then the handle turned. Not all the way. Just enough to test.
Enzo leaned close. “When that door opens, stay on my left. No matter what happens, don’t stop moving.”
Her eyes flicked to the door, and she moved quickly to his left. “What about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
The door slid open. Dominic stood there, one hand braced casually against the frame, dark eyes calm, assessing. Two men flanked him, already angling their bodies to block escape.
Dominic said mildly, “Welcome to Paris.”
Enzo stepped forward, forcing Dominic to shift. Dominic yielded a fraction, just enough to appear cooperative.
“Off to Charles de Gaulle then? Or did you book a flight out of Orly?” Dominic asked. He fucking well knew they hadn’t booked a flight, but Enzo wasn’t about to engage him on this. They would follow along with Dominic and his men until they didn’t, and then all hell would break loose.
They exited the train and merged into the crowd. Gare du Nord swallowed them whole. Noise. Heat. Bodies everywhere. Enzo kept Kathleen tight to his side as Dominic’s men flowed with them effortlessly, too effortlessly. They were too confident. It was going to cost them.
Ahead, near the stairs, Enzo spotted Dragan again. He was standing exactly where traffic naturally thinned, his body positioned like a dam. Two men brushed past him and slowed. Confused. Redirected without realizing why.
Dragan caught Kathleen’s eye, and then he locked gazes with Enzo.
Now.
Enzo changed the rhythm. He slowed down. Dragan moved at the same moment, stepping into the path of one of Dominic’s henchmen, and murmured something low and sharp.
The man hesitated. That was all it took. Dragan dropped him with a hand snap to the throat. The second man swung at Dragan, who deftly sidestepped the blow, and then clubbed the man on the ear as his fist sailed past.
There were sudden yells, and the crowd surged to get away from the fight. Enzo squeezed Kathleen’s hand and veered sharply left instead of passing Dragan. Kathleen pivoted with him, ducking under a swinging backpack.
They broke into a run and aimed toward a nearby set of doors. They burst through the doors marked Sortie Secondaire and into the stairwell. Footsteps thundered behind them.
Police waited at the bottom.
“Shit,” Enzo muttered. Had Dominic planned for this, or was it just bad luck? They exited the stairwell, and Enzo started to run, but Kathleen twisted free and slammed the fire alarm button. The alarm screamed. Red lights flashed. Chaos erupted.
And Dragan was suddenly there, blocking Dominic’s line of sight, throwing his shoulder into a man who went down hard, then grabbing Kathleen and pulling her into the fray.
They moved quickly with the crowd. Not running because that would attract attention.
Just moving with the speed of the people around them.
Enzo followed suit until they emerged into the sunshine.
Dragan kept Kathleen moving until they were a block away.
Then he pulled her into a fierce, tight hug.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice rough.
She laughed breathlessly. “I am now.”
He kissed her cheek, quick, familiar, and again, intimate.
Enzo saw red. Not rage exactly. Something sharper. Possessive. Dangerous. It took everything he had not to rip Kathleen from the other man’s arms.
Dragan pulled back, eyes flicking his direction. “You must be Enzo.”
Enzo nodded once. “You’re Dragan.”
A smile tugged at Dragan’s mouth. “I owe her a few favors.”
“From dates?” Enzo asked flatly.
Kathleen winced. “A couple.”
Dragan’s smile deepened. “Didn’t stick, not for my lack of trying.” He winked at Kathleen and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.
Enzo didn’t miss the way Kathleen’s hand lingered on Dragan’s arm before she stepped back.
Then Dragan moved, Kathleen in tow. Out onto the street with the surge of bodies. Dragan led them through traffic, into the metro, past turnstiles, and onto a train just as the doors closed.
Only then did Enzo breathe.
Kathleen leaned against the pole, chest heaving. “We lost them.”
“For now,” Enzo said.
Dragan glanced between them. “I’ll peel off after the transfer at St. Michel Notre Dame. Don’t want to draw heat. And I have places to be.”
Kathleen hugged him again. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he murmured. Then to Enzo, quietly, “Take care of her.”
There was an unmistakable or else in his statement. Enzo held his gaze. “I am.”
With a curt nod, Dragan guided them off the platform and pointed out which Metro train to grab next before he disappeared into the crowd. Enzo and Kathleen rushed through the train doors just as they were closing.
Kathleen leaned her forehead against Enzo’s shoulder. “That went better than expected.”
“Yes,” Enzo said. He didn’t bother to mention that his gut was full of acid…
not from Dominic and his thugs, but because of the way Kathleen smiled at Dragan.
There was definitely something between them, no matter what the man had said, and a kernel of truth sat like a burr under Enzo’s skin.
And as the train carried them away, one hard, undeniable fact settled in his chest; Kathleen Drake had history, one she hadn’t shared.
He stared out the window at the Seine and tried to get his focus back. It wasn’t like he’d shared his entire history with her, but he had told her about his former position with La Famiglia. She also knew he’d dated Bianca, or at least she must have surmised it by now.
He glanced at her. She didn’t seem to care, which bothered him more than he could say.
Just the thought that Kathleen had gone out with Dragan had him in knots.
He couldn’t even let himself imagine them being together.
The jealousy teeming within him was so great that he thought he might kill someone.
He let out a long breath and watched the signboard, willing the Versailles Chateau Rive Gauche stop to hurry up. But, with the way he felt, sixty minutes was likely to last an eternity.
He’d thought that when this was all over, he’d ask Kathleen out on a proper date.
He’d take her places, and show her things, and they would have fun together.
Now, he knew that was a bad idea. He’d only spent days with this woman, and already she had him tied up in knots.
Had his head so screwed up that all he could think about was her when he should be thinking about how to stay alive.
Kathleen Drake was a dangerous woman, and the last thing he needed in his life was more danger.
He’d barely survived this far, and the future wasn’t so bright as it was.
Putting Kathleen out of bounds was the best course of action.
She always should’ve been off-limits, and because he’d relaxed and ignored his own rules, he was now in a world of hurt.
That was on him. He’d protect her and get through this, and then he would never see Kathleen Drake again.
Having a plan didn’t lessen the growing ache at the thought of saying goodbye to her.