“I don’t know, man! I told you, we’re not close.” I bend down to pick up the chain again. “All right, wait.”
“You’ve got five seconds.”
He exhales. “There’s an apartment in Long Island. We use it as a hideout after shit goes down. It’s near the high school. Brick building. Almost looks abandoned. It’s apartment 256.”
I wrap my hand around his throat and his eyes lock with mine. “You better not be sending me on some wild goose chase, or I swear to God. I’ll come back here and whip you with that chain until there isn’t a single part of you not bleeding.”
Letting him go, I turn around and leave the shed. Beni follows behind me and locks the doors shut. I used to make it a rule not to bring anyone back to my house. It’s too predictable. But these days, I can’t bring myself to leave Saxon. While she’s been progressively improving since her breakdown, she still has her rough days.
“Pull the Escalade into the garage,” I tell Beni as we cross the backyard. “I’ll meet you in there.”
He nods and heads that way, while I head to my bedroom. I grab a hat and a hoodie out of my closet and then go find Saxon. She’s sitting on the couch, reading a book, when I toss both items in front of her.
“Put those on,” I tell her. “We have somewhere to be.”
She looks down at the pitiful disguise and then back up at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Uh, are you forgetting that I’m supposed to be dead? Isn’t that risky?”
“Definitely, but if you think I’m leaving you here, you’re mistaken. Let’s go.”
With a roll of her eyes, she gets up. I grab the hat and put it on her head before wrapping the hoodie around her, making sure her hair is tucked inside of it. She looks up at me through her lashes as I pull the hood up, and I can’t resist pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“You ready?” I ask.
She grabs her book off of the couch. “No, but you’re the boss.”
I chuckle at her sarcasm and take her hand in mine. “You bet your ass I am.”
THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE RIDE to Long Island, Saxon stays quiet. She’s curled up into a ball in the backseat, keeping her head down and reading her book. She was right when she said that bringing her out in public is risky. If Dalton gets word that she’s still alive, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll come after her again. One thing’s for sure: I’ve never been more thankful for blacked-out windows.
“I think this is it,” I tell Beni as he pulls into the parking lot.
The shithead was right. This place looks like it hasn’t been lived in by anyone with an income over $15k a year. The grass out front hasn’t been cut all season and most of the windows have plywood in place of the broken glass. While I can see why the Bratva hide out here, it seems too low class for Princess Viola.
I hop out of the car and take three steps toward the apartment when I hear another car door close. I turn around to see Beni following behind me. Putting up one hand, I stop him.
“Stay here with her,” I tell him. “I’ve got this.”
He leans against the car. “All right, but call if you need me.”
“Will do.”
It takes a few minutes, but I manage to find apartment 256. It’s upstairs, overlooking the empty pool filled with greenish rain water and garbage. Homeless people are clearly using the small amount of cover as shelter, and battered shopping carts filled with all kinds of things are scattered in the hallways.
I listen for any sounds coming from inside the apartment but hear nothing. The curtains are shut on the windows, giving me no chance but to go in blind. I pull my gun out and rear back, kicking the door right off the hinges. Pieces of the door jamb fly into the apartment, but there’s still no sign of anyone.
I step inside, carefully looking around before I move down the hallway. Mattresses covered in stains lie on the floor of each bedroom, and the only inkling that the Bratva prick wasn’t lying about this place are the knives and burner phone found in one of the kitchen drawers. But there’s no sign of Viola, and if I had to guess, only the lower members of the Bratva use this place.
Walking back to the car, I see Beni calmly smoking a cigarette. He exhales out a cloud as I get closer.
“No luck?”
I shake my head. “Not in that shithole.”
He huffs. “So, back to home base to torture some more information out of him?”
“Nah,” I answer. “Let’s go to Raff’s; let him know what a traitorous slut his little princess really is. Maybe then he’ll give her up. And where there’s Viola, I’m sure there will be Nico.”
Climbing into the car, I find myself getting angry as I think about how she’s managed to stay in hiding for two weeks now. Someone has to be helping her, and so help me God, if it’s Raff, his days in the Familia are done.
I glance at the back seat to find Saxon sleeping soundly. Her book rests in her lap while her head leans against the door. It’s the one of the few times I get to see her looking like she isn’t battling a million demons.
Beni hops in the driver’s seat and puts the car in drive, pulling my attention away from Saxon and back to the road.
I’m going to find this little bitch if it’s the last thing I do.
RAFF’S HOUSE IS A place that used to feel safe. Never like home, but safe nonetheless. But lately, I feel like I need to have my guard up around him. Despite all the times he has insisted that we are family, he knows right now I’m after his actual family. There’s no doubt in my mind that he would choose the twins over me, any day of the week.
Knocking on the door, I wait for the sound of footsteps, but they never come. I glance over at where Raff’s car sits in the driveway—the only car he has. The man has always insisted on driving everywhere, even when it was only his wife’s errands. So, if he expects me to believe he’s not home, he’s really underestimating how much I pay attention to detail.
“Go wait in the car,” I tell Beni, knowing this conversation won’t take place on the porch like I had planned.
His shoulders slump in disappointment that he won’t get to see Raff’s reaction when I tell him about Viola’s recent bedroom activities, but he obeys while I pull the key from my pocket. Sticking it into the lock, I open the door and step inside. The whole place is quiet and mostly empty, except for Raff, who is sitting at the kitchen table reading a newspaper.
He looks up and pretends to startle when he sees me. “Kage!”
My brows raise. “You didn’t hear me knocking?”
Putting the newspaper down, he shakes his head. “My hearing isn’t all that great these days. Getting old is a bitch, son.”
“Why is this the first I’m hearing about it? Have you gone to see a doctor?”
“So they can put one of those screeching hearing aids in my ear?” He waves off the idea. “I’d rather go deaf.”
I nod and take a seat across from him at the table while he gets up and pours me a cup of coffee, even though it’s the middle of the damn day. As he places it on the table in front of me, I notice it’s in the same mug I’ve used since I lived here. My father’s favorite.