2. The Long Drive
Chapter 2
The Long Drive
The highway stretches before us like a grey ribbon snaking through a landscape of muted browns and greens. The sky is vast and overcast. The wind whistles through the open window, carrying the scent of exhaust fumes and dust.
At least it’s not raining.
The engine hums, keeping time with my fingers drumming on the dashboard. I fidget in the passenger seat, unable to sit still. The worn leather of the rental car seats feels strangely familiar. The car sits low and sleek, rented under a cover name – George Doven. One of Alexander’s many aliases, carefully crafted over years of navigating the murky world of the Eastern European mafia.
Alexander drives with an almost mechanical precision, his hands steady on the wheel. He seems lost in his thoughts, a world I can’t penetrate. I know he’s struggling, carrying a burden he’s been forced to shoulder. The silence between us is thicker than usual. I know he’s worried, but he will never admit it.
I break the silence. My voice is tight. “What do you think they did to Sarah?”
My mind flashes to her as my stomach twists. I can’t bear the thought of Cole’s men touching her, of their hands violating her. A primal fear, a mother’s instinct to protect her child, courses through me.
He glances at me briefly, his eyes a cold, steel blue. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
A shiver runs down my spine, a sudden chill that has nothing to do with the cool air blowing in from the open window. I imagine Sarah alone and afraid.
“Drive faster,” I whisper.
Alexander’s gaze remains fixed on the road. “I don’t think it’ll help if we drive off the road and kill ourselves.”
“Right,” I say, and try to chuckle, but it’s a forced sound. A sound that does little to ease the knot of anxiety in my stomach. I sigh. “I’m just worried about her.”
He nods. “I know. We’ll find her.”
“Yeah,” I say. Shivering, I close my shirt around me, pulling it up to cover myself.
I need a distraction. My fingers fumble for the dashboard, finally landing on the radio’s button. It crackles to life, a familiar beat pulsing through the car. It’s a pop song, fast and catchy. Out of nowhere, Alexander starts humming along, his voice a rough, deep baritone that blends surprisingly well with the singer’s polished vocals.
I’ve never heard him sing before.
“Alexander?” I probe gently, “Are you okay?”
He shrugs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “The humming? Yeah, sorry about that. It just reminded me of—” He hesitates, his eyes looking distant for a moment, “Michelle and I. We used to put this on at home, late at night, when our parents weren’t around. She’d get scared, so I’d crank up the volume. We had it on cassette tape back then. It would calm her down, we’d sing along, and I’d sit with her on the couch until she fell asleep.”
His voice is soft, almost nostalgic. I can see a flicker of sadness in his eyes.
“Oh,” I say, my voice catching in my throat. “I bet she loved that—spending time with you.”
He gives a small, bitter laugh. “Maybe—It’s not Beethoven, but—”
He remembers my obsession with Beethoven. Of course, he does. Like he knows everything else about me, every hidden corner of my heart.
He glances at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You know, for someone who’s all artsy, you’d think you’d have better taste in music.”
“You’re telling me my music taste is bad?” I retort, a playful chuckle escaping my lips. “That’s coming from someone who’s head-banging to nineties pop?”
He throws his head back and laughs, a full, throaty sound that shakes his shoulders. “Sorry, we can’t all be as sophisticated as you, Ava Parker,” he says. “Beethoven and a bottle of scotch, and you naked. Then I’d be able to listen to it. In fact, I’d give up all my dirty secrets for that.”
I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “You’re incorrigible.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood,” he says, briefly caressing my cheek. It’s a fleeting gesture that immediately relaxes me.
“It’s working,” I admit, taking a deep breath. The tension eases for a moment, like a brief reprieve. We have seven more hours of driving ahead of us, a long road back to Port Haven.
As the miles tick by, the landscape shifts. We approach the coast, and the muted browns and greens give way to lush greens and vibrant blues. The air grows heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed. The highway winds along the coastline, the sea stretching out before us.
My heart clenches as we approach Port Haven.
It’s my home, a city drenched in the memories of my parents, but it also holds a deep-seated fear. This city is a viper’s nest, a place where darkness thrives.
Where the Veles mafia thrives .
I hate that I can’t defend myself and always rely on Alexander for protection. I long to be strong and capable, but I feel like a porcelain doll, fragile and easily shattered.
As we enter Port Haven, the cityscape unfolds before us, a familiar yet somehow alien landscape. The familiar landmarks, the bustling streets, and the towering buildings all feel different, darker somehow. The city’s usual vibrant energy feels muted and strange. The air is thick with the scent of rain, and the streets are slick with moisture.
Rain Haven, I’ve missed you.
We pass a beat-up sedan, its paint faded and scratched, parked haphazardly at the curb.
My stomach twists as I recognize the man entering the car. It’s Tyler. He’s joined by a woman—his girlfriend, I guess? She slides into the passenger seat; it looks like she’s laughing. I feel a strange tingling under my skin. This doesn’t feel right.
“That was weird,” I mutter, my brow furrowing.
Alexander glances at me, his expression unreadable. “What?”
“I thought I saw Tyler,” I say, my voice tight. “He’s changed his car—to a used car.”
He shrugs, his gaze fixed back on the road. “So?”
His nonchalance is unnerving. I know Tyler. He’s not the kind of guy who willingly drives a beat-up clunker. He’s always been about status, about projecting an image of wealth and power. Why would he suddenly drive a car that screams ‘cheap’ and ‘disposable’?
A chill runs through me. Is Tyler in trouble?
“What did Isaac say? Did you talk to him?” I ask, shaking my mind from the image of Tyler.
Alexander nods, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “Not much. He lost control of EverBlue, and he couldn’t run it with me gone. Cole Cohan is running it now.”
Of course, the Raven has taken over EverBlue Group shipping company.
The words are a punch to the gut, a reminder of the power The Raven holds. This must be a bitter pill for Alexander to swallow - losing his empire, built brick by brutal brick, to The Raven.
I see the pain reflected in his eyes as he gazes at the city skyline. It’s a deep, raw pain, the kind that comes from a loss that is too deep ever thoroughly to heal. It’s the pain of a man losing his empire, the pain of a brother who couldn’t protect his sister. He’s a warrior, a protector, but even he can’t shield himself and the people he loves from the darkness.
I want to take away his pain, to heal his wounds, but I don’t know how. My love for him burns bright, a fierce, consuming flame. And still, it’s not enough.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words coming out in a rush, angry tears threaten to spill over. “Screw Cole.”
“I’m trying to—” Alexander begins, his voice filled with a raw emotion that tugs at my heart. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re alive.”
I nod, a single, silent tear tracing a path down my cheek. But Sarah might not be alive.
As if he has read my mind, he says, “Don’t worry. Sarah is still alive. It’s a message. He’s trying to make a point. Call us back to Port Haven.”
“And here we come running,” I say.
He grabs my hand. “We don’t have a choice. We have to be smart about it.”
I nod and glance out the window. The city feels different, darker, and rainier, even more so than usual. It’s a place of shadows and secrets, where danger lurks in every corner. But it’s also our home, and we’re back.
“Let’s stop at your place,” Alexander says and drives on, the water splashing around the rental car.
“Yeah,” I nod, not knowing what to expect there. I dig my fingernails into my palm as I think of painful ways to kill Cole Cohan.