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And I tried to stuff the duffel bags with anything she might need in the immediate future. If this went longer than I wanted it to, I could maybe check in on her, but I was hoping it would all be over soon.
Neeley and his guys seemed eager to get their hands on her now that they knew she was still alive. The only witness to what they’d done to her father.
As soon as I got the extra shit I needed from a gun shop I’d found nearby, having to use my real name this time, since I had my permit—though there was no easy way for Neeley to keep track of that kind of shit—and got the trail cameras set up, I would turn over Millie’s car and drive it around for a while, let it trace right to the cabin again.
From there, it should be fast.
Lying in wait.
Taking them out.
Then the fucking never-ending crime scene clean-up and grave digging.
I was going to be so fucking exhausted.
But it would finally be done.
For good.
I would never have to worry about someone coming for Millie again.
Then I could sleep.
For a fucking week.
With Millie right next to me.
An hour or two later, I was setting up the cameras, careful to try to keep them hidden from the road, for when they came looking for her, but close enough that I could see a car or men making their way onto the property.
I didn’t imagine they were going to come and try to ambush the cabin from all sides.
Not just for Millie.
Not even for the two of us.
Unless he called in more manpower than he’d had in the city. That was possible. Especially once he’d learned that she was staying with me. If he’d done enough research to even know who we were.
This wasn’t the Golden Days of the mafia. Back when the Five Families names were known to every man, woman, and child in the county.
Neeley might not have any fucking clue that Costa was a name in this part of the country. That we were the most well-connected crime syndicate on the East coast.
But if he did, that could be a problem. If he had more men than I anticipated.
Still, I wasn’t planning on being a sitting duck.
Not when the men in Millie’s family had so conveniently set up several deer stands high up in the trees, where I could sit and lie in wait.
I went ahead and connected sturdy ropes to each railing, not wanting to rely on a shaky ladder in a life-or-death situation. Because, once you took out one or two guys, the rest of ‘em would have a direction to shoot in. I needed to be able to get down quick.
Finished with that, I checked and double-checked my guns, keeping two on my person—thanks to Neo’s spare I found in the trunk—and stashing the two I’d bought at the local gun shop in carefully hidden locations in case I needed them.
Then I traced and retraced my steps through the woods, trying to make sure I knew the layout, so I had the home turf advantage.
Only after all of that was done, did I go into the cabin, taking a second to sit down, to get a drink, to mentally prepare.
I could put it off another day.
Go back to the hotel, spend the night in bed with Millie. Get some rest. Come at this from the right side of sleep.
