Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ada slid her pistol into a pocket of her borrowed black dress, one Maggie had told her she usually reserved for funerals.
Tonight, it would serve a different purpose — helping her blend into the night.
She shot a look at Jonny across the room. “I know what you’re going to say. And yes, I am coming with you. I know that you’re concerned, but I can help you. I know the docks nearly as well as you do, and I’m the best shot out of anyone you know — that, I can promise you.”
He gave her a short nod. “I’ve learned not to tell you to stay.”
“And our only information is that the shipment is happening tonight, at the warehouse we saw Will disappear into.”
“That’s right,” Jonny said, his fingers drumming against his leg, the one sign that he was concerned. “I hope he’s not in any trouble,” he muttered.
“Jonny,” Ada said, crossing the room and taking the lapels of his dark jacket between her fingers, “You have to stop blaming yourself for him staying the past few years.”
He lifted his eyes to meet hers, the irises blazing into her imploringly. “How do you always seem to know what I’m thinking?”
“I suppose I know you better than you think,” she said with a mischievous smile before stepping back and donning the fur-lined cloak Lily had loaned her. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” He nodded before they stole out into the night, Jonny keeping Ada tight against his side as they moved quickly through the side streets.
“Did you tell Rhys?” Ada asked him.
“No,” Jonny said, shaking his head. “I know he means well and wants to help, but this is best done with just the two of us. The more people, the more chance of being caught.”
Ada only hoped that they wouldn’t need more help, that this would all go according to plan.
When they reached the docks, while all seemed still and silent, there was a tension to the air, a murmuring that seemed to whisper to them that something was amiss, despite the relative calm.
Even the river was still, waiting. Ada pressed closer against Jonny’s side, as though she could burrow in and stay safe from anything — or anyone — that threatened.
Ada's heart pounded as they crept along the shadowed walls of the warehouse, all her senses on high alert. Beside her, Jonny moved with a silent, feline grace born of years living in this dark underbelly of the city.
She tensed at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching, her hand instinctively reaching for the pistol concealed in her skirts. Jonny pulled her deeper into the shadows, his body a solid shield against whatever threat might emerge.
The footsteps grew louder, more purposeful, accompanied by gruff voices. She caught snatches of conversation: "...shipment's late..." and "...Sharpe won't be happy..." Her pulse quickened. These had to be Sharpe's men.
A shout rang out, followed by the clatter of wood on stone. Ada pressed herself flat against the wall as Jonny peered around the corner. Men's voices echoed, growing louder.
Hardly daring to breathe, Ada watched over Jonny's shoulder as a group of rough-looking men passed by the mouth of the alley, carrying crates. The muscles in Jonny's jaw ticked as he studied them, no doubt searching for his brother among them. But Will was not there.
A large figure stepped into view, his face obscured by the brim of his cap. He carried a crate, straining under its weight. Another man followed, then another. They moved with swift efficiency, clearly having done this many times before.
Ada’s mind raced. How were they going to get past them all and into the warehouse unnoticed? They had discussed the need to find ledgers, shipping routes, receipts showing illegal goods — anything they could use to bring Sharpe down. But first, they had to get in.
They also had a secondary plan — while they would take items with them, they would also leave some behind, in the hopes of causing Sharpe’s men to lose their trust in him.
As soon as the men's voices faded, Jonny released her and stepped out. Ada followed, one hand resting on the pistol in her pocket, ready. They had to find that shipment and gather the evidence they needed. And, Ada prayed silently, find Will and get him out safely.
Sticking to the shadows, crouching when needed, and hiding behind crates and between buildings whenever they saw men approaching, they made their way to the warehouse Will had disappeared into days before.
“The men are moving mostly in a group, hauling crates and then returning a few minutes later. I’ve counted eight of them,” Jonny murmured in her ear from their place in the shadows, her back against him. “After the eighth walks by, we have a few minutes. We’ll need to move quickly.”
She nodded in understanding.
A single lantern glowed by the door, casting an eerie light. Jonny tested the handle. Locked.
He shot her a grim look and pulled a set of lockpicks from his coat.
Ada kept watch, her heart pounding against her ribs, her eyes straining into the darkness, as Jonny worked the lock with deft, practiced movements.
The faint scratch and click of metal on metal seemed to echo like gunshots in the tense silence.
Finally, the lock gave way with a soft snick.
Jonny eased the door open and, guns drawn, they slipped inside, just as they heard footsteps beginning to sound behind them — the men returning for their next load.
The cavernous space was filled with stacks of crates and barrels.
A few lanterns hung from the rafters, their wan light doing little to pierce the gloom.
At the far end of the warehouse, crates were stacked haphazardly, men entering and weaving between them, lifting their burdens before they left again.
Ada and Jonny split up to search, always keeping each other in sight.
Ada's heart thudding again as she pried open crates, hoping to find the evidence they sought, while dreading being captured.
She searched for guns, ammunition, smuggled goods – anything to prove Sharpe's crimes and bring him down.
Sheafs of paper stuck out of one crate, and Ada’s hand wrapped around the top one as she tried to make out what was upon it. It seemed to be a list of goods — she hoped it might be enough to show what Sharpe was up to.
She glanced across the room, trying to make out Jonny’s form, but she couldn’t see him. She could only hope he had accomplished what he had set out to do, putting their plan into motion.
A sudden crash made her jump, hand flying to her pistol as she crouched low.
A gas lamp flooded the room with light, illuminating Jonny, who stood frozen, a shattered lantern at his feet.
Shouts erupted outside, footsteps pounding toward the door.
Ada and Jonny’s eyes met in shared dread. They'd been discovered.
Jonny kicked the shattered glass under a crate and ran across the room toward her, grabbing her hand. "We have to go. Now."
A shout rang out. "Oi! What do you think you're doing?"
Ada tried to run as fast as she could, but cursed when her feet got caught in her voluminous skirts.
She clutched the papers to her chest as a man advanced on them, meaty fists clenched.
Jonny raised his in turn, but a look behind them showed that their pursuer was not alone, that if they took the time to meet him with fists, they would be overtaken by more men than they could handle, pistols or not.
Ada raised her pistol toward him. “Move,” she said, but he only advanced on them, brandishing a knife in one hand.
Ada lifted her pistol slightly, aiming just over his shoulder as she pulled the trigger, shattering the window behind the man. Glass rained over the top of him as, at her warning shot, chaos erupted, men scattering, shouts echoing off the metal walls.
She and Jonny ran together, blood roaring in her ears.
Jonny urged her on as he gripped her hand tightly in his.
They burst out of the door and into the night, sprinting along the docks.
Ada’s lungs burned, but she didn’t dare slow down, not with the thunder of pursuit following them, sounding far too close for her liking.
They careened around a corner, and Ada's heart seized. A dead end. Jonny shoved her behind him, squaring off as their pursuers caught up, leering. Ada clutched the papers, the evidence of Sharpe's misdeeds, to her chest with her left hand, the pistol still in her right.
Then a voice cut through the night, achingly familiar. Will. "Let them go, boys. I'll deal with my brother.”
Ada could barely catch her breath as she looked at Jonny, who appeared calm and collected.
Will wouldn’t hurt them.
Would he?
“Well, well, Jonny and his little lovebird,” Will said, loud enough so that the retreating men could hear him. “Why have you come and offered yourself to be caught in Sharpe’s nest?”
He approached now, his voice low.
“The shipment was late. They should have all been on the ship. I had no way to get word to you.”
“I see that,” Jonny said grimly.
“Were you able to plant what we needed?”
“I was,” Jonny confirmed. Ada said nothing about what she had found. Jonny might trust Will implicitly, but she liked having a secondary option — just in case.
“Sharpe will know you are here by now,” Will said. “You have to go. And quickly.”
“What are you going to say?”
“That your little lady here held me at gunpoint. He knows the kind of shot she is.”
Ada quirked a brow. She hadn’t known that word of her prowess was so widespread.
Will stepped forward. “Better give me a blow to the head, Jon, show that I put up a fight.”
“No.”
“You have to,” Will insisted.
“Then get your own in first,” Jonny challenged him, crossing his arms over his chest as Ada rolled her eyes. Men.
Will nodded grimly, stepped back, and then lunged toward Jonny, hitting him across the face, sending his head snapping back and causing Ada to cringe.
She had a feeling there was some pent-up anger behind the blow, but she hoped that would be it — that they could move on from it now.
Jonny got his hit in, but it didn’t have nearly as much force behind it, and the two stepped back, shaking their firsts.
“Go now,” Will said. “But remember. Sharpe knows. He’ll be coming for you.”
“Unless we can bring him down first.”
“Maybe so,” Will said, before Jonny took Ada’s hand and they took off, back toward home.
He was silent as they prepared for bed, and she didn’t bother showing him the papers she had found. They could wait until morning. He had far too much on his mind now.
When they finally slid under the covers, he still hadn’t said anything, and she reached for him, wrapping her arm over him, holding him close.
He burrowed into her, and they held each other, providing the comfort they both hadn’t even known they needed until now.
Ada closed her eyes, hoping against hope that this wouldn’t be the end — that, once this was all finished, he would still want her.
She knew she was foolish to have entertained this for so long, especially when he had told her that he never wanted forever with anyone.
But fool she would remain, as she couldn’t seem to tear herself away. Everything they had done together, everything he had given for her, from taking her in to admitting to murder for her, was making her never want to let him go.