Chapter Eight
Severin
We step outside, and immediately the cold bites my skin more sharply. I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket. Despite the signal flickering in and out, it still works. I dial the familiar number I’ve known since I was old enough to handle a gun.
I keep my other hand on my weapon as I scan the treeline looking for any sign of movement.
“Get in,” I tell her over my shoulder.
Maggie doesn’t argue about getting into the passenger seat, pulling her jacket tighter around her as I keep my focus around us.
My thumb lingers over the call button before pressing it. I dread this call. The line rings once, then that deep voice speaks into the phone.
"Severin," my father says.
“Father.” My tone remains calm and steady. “We have a problem.”
I climb into the driver’s seat of the side-by-side and twist the key.
The engine rumbles to life, a low growl that echoes through the mountain air.
I tighten my grip on the wheel as my eyes flicker between the trees as we bounce down the narrow trail.
The connection fades in and out, but comes back, flashing again, but his voice stays steady.
“Talk.”
“Rizzo’s dead,” I say, glancing at Maggie. “But his men found the body. They know.”
A silence settles over the line, heavy and thick.
“Then it’s begun,” he finally says. “If they tracked him there, they’ll track you next. You’ve left blood on someone’s map, son.”
“I’m aware,” I answer, jaw tight. “I’ll handle it.”
His tone turns cool, almost bored. “And the woman?”
Shit, how does he know about Maggie?
I glance at her, and she’s staring out at the snow with her jaw clenched, pretending not to listen. “She stays under my protection.”
“Protection,” he repeats, the word heavy with warning. “You’ve always had a weakness for lost causes.”
The call ends abruptly, and the signal disappears. I tuck the phone back into my pocket. My jaw clenches as the snow flurries whip harder around us, the cold settling further into my bones.
Whatever it takes, she won’t pay for my blood debts.
Maggie turns to look at me, meeting my gaze. “What did he say?”
I keep my eyes on the trail ahead. “Danger is coming.”
The words taste like iron in my mouth. My father doesn’t wait; he acts. I know him well enough to recognize the rhythm of his cleanup. It's efficient, cold and on point.
Part of me wants to take her somewhere far away from all this and hide her until I’ve finished what I started. But the truth is, there’s no hiding from the world I was born into.
I glance at her face, pale with fright, the cold exposure, or maybe from both. Her eyes fixate on the endless rise of the mountains ahead of us. She doesn’t belong in my world, not even close but now that she is because of me, she might never get out.
My father’s men are on their way here. My only priority now is to make sure she survives this turmoil. No matter what it takes.