Chapter 2 #2
Just outside the halo of light near the train, I see another man.
He keeps to the shadows so no matter how much I zoom in with my camera, I can’t make out any features.
His posture alone marks him as someone in charge.
Even from this distance I can tell his coat is tailored and he operates with the kind of moneyed authority you can’t fake.
My breath hitches. Wait. I immediately know who it is.
Veles. My brother has told me all about him in our monthly secret phone calls.
My stomach gurgles with acid.
He’s the Russian backing my father’s power move into the drug world and my father’s new favorite devil, as my brother explained. Veles and the Vultures. I’ve known about them for a while and it doesn’t surprise me that my father could wrangle them into doing his dirty work.
My skin prickles with cold sweat. Veles is talking to a short, stocky figure.
His shoulders hunch, and he has his hands jammed in his pockets.
There’s something familiar in the angle of that chin, the restless tension in his stance.
And then he moves his hand from his pocket and I catch the glint off the family ring.
For a moment, my heart stops.
“Micah?” I clamp a hand over my mouth and huddle back into the shadows.
What the hell is he doing here? He said he was staying away from the railway station tonight so I could film and get the proof needed to take our father down. If I catch Micah on film, the cops will take him down right along with our father.
Damn it! I pause the video recording.
Behind me, a roar of motors forces me to turn on my heel.
I narrow my eyes into the darkness. “Now what?”
Several SUVs come up alongside my compact car. “Who the hell?”
Headlights die right before the engines do the same.
I look on as several massive men wearing leather with an aura of anger pile out of the vehicles and instant recognition hits.
“For fuck’s sake!”
Savages. All of them have guns in their hands and are looking in my direction. The force of their wrath pushes my back up against the wood crates. I did not come prepared to face off with them and my father’s men.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Great. I’m surrounded.
My blood runs icy cold. I take several deep breaths as I fight to keep my calm. But reality is running circles around me screaming for me to run like hell and don’t look back.
Behind me a wall of men with war in mind are coming in hot.
In front of me, my father’s drug deal is moving along like they have all night.
Voices rise over the low hum of the diesel engine.
Micah knew better than to put his ass in view.
I have to do this. I can’t let this opportunity slip by.
I pull out my phone and catch the entire shady drug deal going down in the middle of the night on camera.
I hold my breath as Veles roars with anger at someone who drops a crate.
The edge cracks and my brother barks out an order I can’t hear.
All I can hope is they give my brother a good deal when I turn this into the cops.
I just wish my father would show his face, but so far nothing.
Go figure. Always leaving others to do his dirty work. But I know his fingerprints are all over this and it really pisses me off that this crap will eventually poison my city.
Tears blur my vision, but I hold steady for a few more seconds.
Suddenly, Veles shouts—a sharp, guttural order. All the flunkies with guns fall silent. One of the Russians gestures wildly, pointing toward the shadows—toward me.
I freeze.
Did they see the light on my phone? My heart hammers in my chest as I slide back, pressing myself flat against the wall, praying I blend in.
I force myself to breathe through my nose, body shaking with adrenaline as I inch deeper into the dark, circling around the far end of the building and sliding behind another wall of crates stacked high. I huddle into the darkness and hope anyone coming this way forgot their flashlight.
I’m not a criminal by any means and I’m sure the hell not some high-level spy with unlimited tricks up my sleeve. Despite my upbringing and the blood in my veins, I am just a girl with too many secrets and no good choices left and a boatload of bad ideas on how to stop my father.
Behind me, the shouts grow louder. Russian voices clash with English. It’s a mix of threats, curses and someone demanding to know who’s out there.
My hand closes around a rusted pipe for balance. Bad move. My phone slips, bouncing against the steel before skittering into the shadows at my feet.
Kill. Me. Now.
I drop to my knees, grab the phone and tuck it into my bra. Heart pounding as I rise, desperate to get away.
Self-preservation has my exit strategy kicking in.
I make quick work of backtracking over my steps in the opposite direction of the drug deal.
The snow makes it a little slow going but when I reach the edge of the building, I ease around the corner.
I hold my breath and hope my pounding heart is only audible to me.
Once I get around the corner it’s a straight shot to the car. I get the hell outta here and shoot this video off to the detective at the New Orleans PD. Sounds like a good plan.
With nothing in front of me but darkness, I go to move, but the shadows in front of me shift and shimmer in a way that isn’t natural.
And the man who steps out has death clinging to his aura. Eyes made of obsidian and forged in the depths of hell, bore into my soul, pinning my feet in place.
I raise my eyes to meet his. My breath locks in my chest.
I thought today really couldn’t get any worse for me.
Seconds tick by before I find my voice. “Phantom.”
I don’t realize my feet are moving until I’m already halfway to my car and the ground suddenly falls away and I’m flying.
I land on a broad shoulder and then I'm moving again. Only this time, instead of getting closer to my car and the way out of here, I’m being placed back on the ground where I started.
Steel arms wrap around my waist and I’m pinned against a wall at my back and a very unmovable wall of muscle at my front.
I swallow hard, but the dry lump in my throat made of fear and surprise isn’t budging.
“Phantom!” I seethe through gritted teeth. “What the hell are you doing?” I work hard to keep my growling voice pitched low.
“I’m wondering the same damn thing.” He growls roughly and I swear I try not to shudder from the deep, rumbling rasp that plays with a woman’s libido.
But I fail and then a face lowers in front of mine and for the first time in three years the man I love kisses me.