Page 92 of One Filthy Kiss

“Nik? Where are you going?” I keep my voice low. Too low.

She doesn’t acknowledge me before she gets swallowed up by the shadowy twilight of the world outside.

“Amber, stay there,” I say firmly. “Don’t move until I get back, okay?”

The door is still open. Alarm bells are ringing inside my head, but I have to find Nikki and get her back inside.

I stand on the threshold and peer around the darkness. It isn’t like nighttime in the city. Here the dark is denser, like a blanket dotted with stars, because there are no lights in the mountains to guide the way.

I can’t see Nikki.

“Nik?” I whisper. “Nikki?”

There’s no sign of Ric or anyone else. The other cabins are all in darkness, and I get a horrible sinking feeling that they’ve all gone and abandoned us here. We should be in the bunker. We’ll be safe down there.

No one can reach us.

No one will be able to take Amber away from me.

I just need to find Nikki first.

I step outside. Hesitant. Hardly daring to breathe.

Then I spot her. She’s standing between the cabin and the path that snakes its way up the mountain, hands on hips, as if resuming her earlier conversation with Ric.

“Nikki?” I start walking towards her as a gunshot splits the night in two.

She sprawls backwards like this is one of those team-bonding exercises where you trust your colleagues to break your fall. But no one catches her. She hits the ground with a thud, her face bone-pale in the moonlight.

I freeze.

A dark patch is spreading across her chest.

Nikki has been shot. It makes no sense, but I know Nikki has been shot, and Ric is nowhere to be seen.

Then I hear a scream, and Amber darts past me yelling, “Auntie Nikki!”

20

GIOVANNI

There’sno time for what ifs and maybes.

Meggie trusted her best friend, and I didn’t question her judgement. My gut let me down. I should’ve recognized the signs when I visited Nikki in LA, but instead, I was focused on proving my love for Meggie.

I let love get in the way, and I’m going to pay the price one way or another.

I know how long the flight to Vermont will take. Too fucking long. But I learned at a very young age to disregard events that are beyond my control.

The flight time is fixed. We might catch a tailwind and gain some minutes, but I’m in the air, and Meggie is in Stowe, and I’ll get there when I get there. My energy will be wasted on trying to speed up a private jet using mind over matter.

Instead, I run through in my head the instructions I gave Ric.

The information regarding The Fish that I gleaned from Don Calderone pointed to a man who worked alone. A serpentloitering in the shadows. Unnoticed. Untraceable. Unremarkable. Harder to catch than a gangster with an entourage of indestructible vehicles and an arsenal of weapons.

He got close enough to Meggie in Central Park to leave the note in her purse. A warning. It meantI can take you whenever I want, and don’t forget it.

“I need you to call in a few more favors,” I say to Bruno.