Chapter 19
Mykonos, Greece
“What do we do?”
“What’s the quickest way outside?”
“The living room, but”—she pointed at her feet—“I need shoes.”
Dillon grabbed the backpack and lifted the AK-47 he’d taken off the thug at the villa.
Slinging the backpack on, he sidled up to the door, caught her hand and coiled it around his belt loop.
“Hold tight and stay close.” He did a quick look-see of the hall and found both directions empty.
He snaked out with her in tow and hustled toward the corner.
Peeked around and found it clear. Hurried across the open space, head on a swivel as he stalked forward.
Sounds coming from the stairwell at least one level below told him time was short.
At her room, he checked it for safety, then hustled inside. “Hurry. Every second counts.”
She sprinted past him to the closet.
While she got what she needed, he slunk to the windows, saw nothing, then repositioned himself so he had a line of sight on both the terrace and the hall.
A definitive shunk rang through the house as darkness slammed across the entire structure. Just like the villa. Gut tight, he saw shadows gliding past the pool. Holy fire, how many were there?
“Gelato, now!” he rasped.
She darted to his side.
“They’re everywhere—pool and hall. Out the window.”
Her eyes widened, then she hurried to the nearby window. Shifted the handle from a vertical position to horizontal. A noticeable pop signaled the catch release. She eased it open and climbed out, vegetation rustling beneath her intrusion.
Dillon followed, lowering himself to the huge bush, then closing the window behind him so they didn’t immediately give away their escape route.
Moving along the bush, they came to the corner of the house.
He reached past her, pointing across the pebbled drive to a half wall that marked off another property behind the house.
Cove sprinted to the other side and climbed over the wall. Right behind her, Dillon hopped it and dropped to a crouch. They worked their way up the sloping hill, then down a narrow alley between two much smaller properties.
“Just keep moving,” he said to her.
Cove did just that until they found themselves on a stone path with stark-white lines between the giant gray stones.
The narrow passage stayed wide open for a good fifty, sixty meters.
Soon, they were descending and curving around.
Shops lined the path, and they were slowing down when plaster spat at them.
“Run!” Dillon hissed, and they both bolted away from the shooter. He spied a side street. “Right!”
Cove tried to slow to avoid a collision with a wall, but she had too much momentum.
She stumbled and went down. To avoid crashing into her, Dillon tic-tacked the wall and flipped over her.
Skidded to a stop. Caught her hand and hauled her back upright.
While he wasn’t a fan of the claustrophobic cluster of buildings crammed onto the island, he was glad for it.
Made it harder for a shooter to have a clear line of sight or get off a clean shot. More places to hide.
He had no idea how far they’d gone or how long, but when he realized they hadn’t taken cover or heard a pursuer, he slowed, pulling to the side.
Cove joined him, holding on to his arm, her breaths coming in ragged gulps.
“I think we’re okay…”
She swallowed and wet her lips, shaking her head. “How did they find us?”
He shrugged as they walked the darkened streets with the warm glow of lights throughout. “That’s what I’d like to know.” People were still awake, enjoying the nightlife.
“Nobody knew we were here! Zio Santi is the only person.”
“The boat,” Dillon thought aloud. “If they tracked or spotted it…”
“Oh.” Chagrined, she inspected her elbow, scraped from her collision with the wall.
“Should have docked it elsewhere. I just didn’t expect them to track us that fast.” He eyed her injury. “You okay?”
“Stings like—”
A blur came out of the shadow.
Adrenaline-fueled, Dillon surged forward, right arm thrusting her back as he slid in front of her.
Nailed the gunman’s hand. Heard the gun clatter to the ground even as the shooter swung a left hook at his jaw.
Dillon shifted but not soon enough. The punch connected, sending him staggering against Cove.
The attacker came in with another punch, but Dillon planted his foot against the wall behind Cove and used it to drive himself into the man.
Bent, he grabbed the guy’s waist. Dove backwards.
He felt the guy’s head crack against the wall along the narrow path.
That gave him the slight edge needed. Scrambled to get the guy in a headlock.
Anchored his arms, using the walls to brace and prevent the attacker from getting free.
The guy slapped and tried to claw and punch at Dillon.
Each impact was slower, weaker. Finally, the guy stopped fighting…
Dillon held on to be sure the guy wasn’t trying to flip the tables on him.
Finally confident the attacker wasn’t going to fight back, Dillon got his legs up under him, hooked the guy’s shoulders, and hauled the unconscious form into a small alley.
He retrieved the gun, used the ambient light from a nearby house and did a press check to verify a round was in the chamber, then tucked it at the small of his back.
“Is he dead?” she asked.
“Unconscious.” He wasn’t sure but knew she didn’t need it in her head that he’d just killed someone. He caught Cove’s hand and broke into a jog. “C’mon. Which way to the airport?”
“I…uh…” She stopped, glancing around, no doubt to get her bearings.
He tugged her onward. “Don’t stop. Just get your bearings as we move. Aim us in that general direction.” As they negotiated the tight passages of the city, he noticed her breath was ragged. It seemed she was limping. “You hurt?”
“I think I turned it wrong,” she panted but did not stop. “So what is the plan?”
“Stay out of sight until we meet the plane.”
“That’s not for hours.”
“I know.” He also had to ensure she was safe. “Is there someone on the island you can stay with?”
In the darkened passage, her glower felt like a beacon.
“You already tried that once.” Ire flashed in her gold eyes as she stepped toward him, pressing her lips tight.
“Stop trying to get rid of me!” she snapped, chest heaving—and this wasn’t from being out of breath.
She was furious. “I have lost my mom, my dad, and I am not going to lose you!”
Those words were like an RPG to his chest. They couldn’t mean how that sounded.
Cove startled at her own words. She shoved her hair back and pressed the heel to her forehead. “I-I mean…”
“We just got shot at and run down—isn’t that enough proof it’s not safe?”
“You kept me safe. That is how I am safe—with you!”
What a sucker punch. “Don’t do that.”
“If you had left me back there, who knows what would happen. I am not putting my life in anyone else’s hands!
” Plaintive, hurt eyes settled on him. “We had a deal, Dillon. Remember?” Her lower lip quivered, and holy fire, that snuffed the fight out of him.
“A plan to save our dads. You and me. Together. For the first time, I had hope that I could do this, prove Papà was innocent.”
Duly chastised, he understood, but… “I don’t want you to get hurt!”
“You pushing me away hurts. You not willing to help me hurts.” She threw up her hands. “I have nowhere to go, no friends.”
“Okay, okay.” Man, she had hooked his heart and bludgeoned his ability to keep her at arm’s length. He drew her into his arms as proof of that. “You’re killing me, Gelato.”
First, she thumped his chest with a hand. “Stop trying to leave me.” She angled into his shoulder and rested her cheek there. “I have no options besides you.”
Dagger to his heart. “I get it. I hear you, G.” Exhaling heavily, he held her close, cupping the back of her head, thumb tracing her hair, still damp from their tumble into the pool.
Remembered the night on the roof in Paris when he’d felt so alone, desperate, aching.
How he’d cried out to God. And now…now he was with her.
She clung to him for a long minute, shuddering a breath. Then lifted her head and looked up at him, uncertainty churning through her expression. “So…does that mean…”
“It means this monster,” he said, recalling how angry she’d been when she called him one earlier, “is an idiot. We need to keep moving…”
Cove straightened. “So…for keeps.” She blinked. “Well, not keep keeps, but…”
Amused at how she kept second-guessing everything she said, he cocked his head to the side. “Let’s get going. And hope this isn’t a mistake.”
Cove hustled to stay in step with him. “At least we will make it together.”
“What, do you think that’s like some romantic trope or something?”
“No, but would that be so bad if it were?”
Dillon grunted as they moved onto a stretch of road that didn’t incite him to violence with walls that closed in. They’d barely had a day’s reprieve before being set upon again at the swanky ocean-front house. “I really hate how they keep finding us. Makes me wonder how…” They’d been so careful…
“The boat—you knew it had GPS.”
“Yes, but it should’ve taken them hours to figure out that we were on it. No way they should’ve shown up already.”
The buildings on this street had space between them, unlike the previous ones, and he could be glad for that. Felt like he could breathe again as the sea and tight-packed city grew distant behind them.
“What are you saying?” she asked as they rounded another corner.
He didn’t like the thought taking root in his head. Before he vomited it out and made her angry again, he should let it marinate. “Talk later. Let’s find a place to hole up near the airport.”
“That could be tricky,” Cove said as they slowed to a normal pace. Another ten minutes brought them up into a more open area with larger structures. “This area is not heavily populated like the shoreline. Not as many places to hide.”