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This place had my skin crawling, which was almost ironic given the fact that it wasn’t like we had a childhood that was any better than this.
I started looking at the other businesses, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel and trying to stay calm, focused. I kept telling myself everything was fine, that it was just one of those moments where I was feeling on edge. I blamed it on the fact that I’d been obsessively thinking about Nadja, more than usual.
Although I thought about her daily, recently she’d been on my mind to the point where I felt it consume me. It was like in the beginning of all this, when I felt frantic, searching and searching, trying to find any little breadcrumbs of information. It had become this obsession with me.
And I latched onto it, made it my mission, even if all these years had gone by, even if I hadn’t even gotten close to finding out where she was all this time.
I assumed she went back to Russia, her father carting her off. The very idea that she was already married, possibly had children, forced into a life she didn’t want, infuriated me. It had this possessive and protective instinct in me rising so fiercely I couldn’t even breathe.
I rested my head back on the seat and closed my eyes. They’d be out soon, less than a literal minute. In and out, get the drugs and money, and get the fuck out. The plan was simple, easy… without fault. No one was even there, the place empty. There’d be nothing and no one to hold anything up.
I opened my eyes and looked at my watch, seeing the hand counting down the seconds, feeling my adrenaline rush. I had the car idling, ready to bolt as soon as they were in.
I glanced over my shoulder at where I could see the storefront of Mackerel’s.
Come on, assholes. Let’s get the fuck out of here.
I faced forward again, and movement across the street up ahead caught my attention. I watched as a woman briskly walked down the sidewalk, a bag in her hands, her baseball cap pulled down low. She was walking fast—hauling ass. She had dark-blonde hair that fell to her shoulders, and I could assume she was another junkie, but she didn’t walk like one. Her gait was even, her steps never faltering. She also looked put together, appearing clean, with her clothes in place and decent.
The only thing that was askew was her.
She definitely seemed out of place on this side of town, and it piqued my interest as I watched her walk into the laundromat. She went over to the waist-high table and set her bag on it before pulling out her clothes. She was facing the street, but the brim of her hat made it impossible to see her face.
I didn’t know why I was so curious. I really didn’t give a fuck who this woman was, but the fact that she stuck out like a sore thumb on this side of town made her an oddity. And if I noticed her, others would too.
I was about to turn my focus to the road, when she looked up, and everything in me stilled. She was far enough away I couldn’t make out the little details that made her up, couldn’t even see the color of her eyes, but I was close enough that I’d be able to tell if it was someone I recognized.
And I knew her. I felt her. She’d been a part of me for the last five years.
I felt the world align, felt my center even out. And for the first time in my life, I felt… at peace.
It was Nadja.
I could try and rationalize that there was no way it was her, that she wouldn’t be in this shitty part of town. But I told myself that even though her hair color and length were different, that she wore a baseball cap, I wasn’t losing my mind. Right?
Right?
Maybe it was my eyes playing tricks. God, it looked just like her right down to the facial features, the bone structure, and her body shape.
“Frankie.”
I heard my name called distantly, but it was as if I were underwater. It was distorted, something far away and hard to focus on. I couldn’t stop focusing on her. She kept glancing up, looking around. I saw the fear, panic in her eyes. She was nervous, clearly scared, as if she were worried someone would see her.
“Frankie.”
My name was called harder, aggression laced in that one word.
I blinked and had to force myself to look away from her. I looked at the passenger side and saw Wilder sitting in the seat, his face hard as he stared at me. A glance in the backseat showed Dom and Cullen.
