“No. We can’t. I don’t know who to trust anymore. We have to be careful, someone could use this opportunity to try to kill us both.”
“I’d love for them to try.” Dominic snorts.
Glancing out the window, I look at the industrial area. East Port sits where the river dumps into Lake Calumet, cut off from the rest of the city by freight lines, warehouses, and roads full of potholes. This is the place where things and people disappear and paperwork gets rewritten. Where bodies float face down and no one calls it in. Then at night ghost ships glide into port with all our shit from South America.
The road narrows as we enter the shipyard. Dominic pulls up to the locked gate. Chain-link fencing rises on both sides, topped with razor wire. The guard booth is empty. But there is a keypad bolted to the side with a red camera blinking above it.
Dominic rolls down the window and the scent of salt, rot, and fuel fills the car.
“Put in the code,” I command. “Five-one-five-five-four-nine.”
He leans out the window and punches it in.
Nothing.
He looks at me. “It’s not working.”
“Try again.” My heart hammers in my chest. Could someone have reset the code?
Same result.
My stomach tightens. “Here let me try.”
I unbuckle, climb over the console, crawl over Dominic, and lean out the window. I punch each number slowly, and don’trush. Pressing the enter button, relief fills me as the lock clicks. A buzzer sounds and the gates open.
It’s then that I realize where I am.
I’m half on top of Dominic, my weight presses into him, and my ass is basically in his face. I scramble back to my seat as heat creeps up my neck.
He doesn’t make a comment. He just looks at me with unreadable eyes and an intense gaze.
“What?” I snap. “Drive.”
The car rolls forward into the parking lot.
Cracked asphalt, grass-lined gaps, and emptiness greet us.
One car sits near the terminal. It’s Salvatore’s. The black polished luxury sedan looks out of place.
Dominic parks beside it and gets out, opening my door before heading to Salvatore’s car.
An aroma of horrid smells hits me full force.
Diesel. Brine. Decaying fish. Death.
Gulls screech as they circle overhead, like they’re afraid to land in this rancid place.
Dominic presses his hand to the hood. “It’s still warm, he couldn’t have been here too long.”
We scan the terminal. No voices. No footsteps. Just the hum of distant machinery and water slapping against steel.
“I don’t like the looks of this.” Dominic pulls his gun from the holster. “Stay behind me.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.” I draw mine from my coat as we move up the steps.
“Cipi, please just do as I say.”
“Fine.” I let him take the lead.
