But my husband doesn’t give me the courtesy of that answer.
Stupid me for thinking he might.
Turning away, I hunker down into the seat and pull my coral-pink shawl protectively around my shoulders. When I’m confident they can’t see, I open my hand to read Frankie’s note.
It’s more words and music, written in haste on the back of a betting slip that’s smeared with blood and threaded with an old assurance—plus something else that makes my soul ache and my eyes sting.
I never regretted, Ada.
I never forgot.
This time, I’m not leaving London without you or our son.
CHAPTER 22
FRANKIE
I’m nearly back at my SUV when the gunman starts firing.
I’m still drunk off her scent and warmth. It takes me a second to figure out where it’s coming from. Spinning around, I see one of Semenov’s patsans push Ada into a car that’s receiving a bad paint job in gun-metal grey.
Ada.
My thoughts are singular. The killer in me, primed and ready.
I go to run to her when Viper steps in front of me and slams me up against the SUV, pinning me in place with a clenched fist to my chest. “This is a bullshit drive-by,” he hisses. “The bullets are for show. They’re nowhere near O’Sullivan’s men. They’re nowhere near, Ada.”
Dragging my gaze away from his face, I see that he’s right. The line of holes in the cars is too neat. The damage too minimal. By the time the red Fiesta is doing sixty out of the car park, not one person has been wounded from a point-blank attack.
What the fuck?
Pushing him off me, I circle around to the driver’s side. “Get in.”
Moments later, O’Sullivan’s convoy is speeding past us with Ada trapped inside. Viper’s still climbing into his seat when I press the metal to the floor to follow them.
“Easy!” he yells, catching his swinging door and slamming it shut just as we join the dual carriageway. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Chasing.” A quick glance in the mirror reveals a white-faced Bambi, but at least she’s wearing a seatbelt. God knows where Thiago is. He must be in the other car with Viper’s men.
“Turn around.”
“No.”
There’s a flash of metal as he aims his Glock at my head. “I said, turn the fuck around, mafia boy. I ain’t playing anymore. I came here today for some answers, not to be lined up against a brick wall of trouble.”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “You don’t think we’re there already?”
“Whoever carried out that drive-by did you a favour. They swung the finger of blame away from us. Maybe Santiago won’t castrate us, after all.”
“You wanted to kill that bastard, just as much as me.” Gritting my teeth, I coax another ten-miles-an-hour out of the SUV as the dual carriageway opens up into three lanes. Ada’s still fifty metres ahead.
“Maybe so, but I told you to use a knife. Not a gun.”
“Maybe the fucking situation demanded a dirtier death.”
“Stop swearing at each other,” Bambi mutters from the back. “You know I’m listening to every word you say.”
“Then put your AirPods back in.”
“I can’t. Viper confiscated them earlier, along with my iPhone.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone wandering, then.”
“Maybe you should have stayed in jail! There’d be a lot more people alive in this world if you had!”
“Why the hell is she here again?” I explode at Viper, switching to Spanish. “I don’t need to have my fucking sins projected back to me on an hourly basis.”
“Because I have nowhere else to go,” she says quietly, in Spanish too, making me feel like even more of a cunt. “And there aren’t enough years left of my life to list out all your sins, Francesco Lastra.”
Touché.
No one speaks as I circumnavigate three more cars to keep the others in sight. Even so, I can feel them inching away.
Reluctantly, my foot eases off the pedal.
I had my hands on her.
The only woman I’ve ever wanted was right there next to me.
Thirty seconds later, we could have been in this car and heading for the nearest airport.
But I have a dead family and a debt of vengeance, too.
“She’s still alive, Lastra.” Viper lowers his weapon and gestures for me to come off at the next exit. “They won’t kill the bait. She’s too valuable to them breathing.”
“There are worse things they could do to her than death.”
I think of her husband’s penchant for breaking bones, and I nearly snap the steering wheel in half.
Fuck, I need to calm down.
Pulling off into a McDonalds car park, I find an empty bay. Jamming a much-needed cigarette into my mouth, I find I can’t bring myself to light the damn thing with Bambi staring daggers at me in the rear-view mirror.
Jesus Christ.
Yanking it out again, I crush it up with my fist and kick the car door open. “I have a child. We have a child,” I declare roughly, tossing the cigarette away to inhale that shock revelation instead.
Lost years.
With her.
With him.
Viper’s gaze is drilling into my back. “Who told you that? Rossi?” He holsters his gun and rips off his tie as I fall back into the driver’s seat and stare mindlessly at a young couple arguing in the next bay. “The Italian knew he was a dead man walking. Sometimes, the dying will say anything to make you feel their pain.”
“I believed him.”
“Dying man, Frankie. Don’t underestimate the desperate. Some of the stuff people have said to me when under my knife would make a sinner a saint.”
“No saints here.” Climbing out of the car, I snap my jacket together. “Did you know?”
“About what?”
“My son.”
My son. I have a son. It feels like I’ve been punched in the gut by the truth.
There’s a pause as he swipes his fingers across his jaw. “Don’t go there, man.”
It’s my turn to pull a gun on him now, moving so fast he doesn’t have time to blink. “Are you going to make me ask it again?”
He glares at me but doesn’t make a move for his own weapon.
“Frankie, stop! Please don’t hurt him.” Bambi shoots forward from the backseat and wraps her arms protectively around his shoulders. “Viper’s not the one you’re hating on here.”
“Shiiiit, okay, I knew she had a kid.” He holds my gaze as he says it. As if honesty this late in the game will make it any better.
It doesn’t.
“I see, so that neat little speech back there about dying men talking bullshit was a prime example?”
“Easy with the threats, Lastra. There are other kids present.” Untangling Bambi’s arms from his neck, he gently pushes her away. “Look, I’m a bad liar. If you ask me anything outright, I’ll tell you the truth.”
“But until that time you dance around it like it’s a fucking bonfire. Anything else you’re not telling me? How did you get out of that basement?”