Amusement danced in her eyes. “Where are we going?”
“Take Route 99 south,” I instructed.
“You’re going to have to give me better instructions than that,” she grumbled, folding into her seat. “I don’t know the roads here yet.”
“I’ll get us there.” I slid the backpack Joey provided between my legs, careful not to jostle the delicate contents.
In the side mirror, I watched as Luigi slid behind the wheel of his stupid green car. Emanuele ran out of the house just in time to ride shotgun with his brother. Joey had been assigned to a stupid job by his incompetent capo, which left him out of the fun. His brothers would give him shit.
If they survived.
But there was a high probability we pulled this off without a scratch. I wouldn’t have asked Rae if it was the other way around.
Rob Zombie pulsed low in the speakers as Rae eased her vehicle onto the road. Normally, I wouldn’t have risked using such flashy vehicles, but I’d called in a favor and there would be a city-wide glitch for security cameras in precisely twenty minutes. The friend of a friend was intrigued by the challenge, and they would create a window where we could slip in and out without a trace.
Rae didn’t say much as she followed my directions, cruising just a hair over the speed limit down the busy highway. I wanted to chat. I tried to engage her in a light conversation about her life before Boston. What it was like to grow up in Georgia. Did she have any peach trees at her house, because yes, apparently I was lame and didn’t know anything else about the state other than sometimes peaches came from there.
But her walls were up.
The kiss was a mistake.
No….Stopping the kiss had been.
It wasn’t until we pulled into the maze of waterfront roads that she began to frown.
“Stop right here.” I checked my watch. The clock had started. “Be ready to drive like hell the moment we get back.”
Gazing through the windshield, Rae looked at the dock workers. “It’s the middle of the day.”
“So?” I cracked the door and stepped out.
“So, don’t you mobsters operate at night? You know, when people can’t see what you’re doing?” She tapped her fingers against the wheel. The nervous tick was adorable.
“Did you ever think I wanted them to see?” I countered.
Her wide-eyed gaze swung to me. “Nico—what are you doing?”
I smirked. She was so unbelievably cute. “Keep the engine running, cherry-bomb.”
The Massachusetts Port Authority wouldn’t interfere. They were deep in the back pockets of our friends in the Old North Neighborhood.
But still, it was a risk some lowly security guard didn’t get the memo and was making the rounds through the various yards.
Emanuele jogged to my side. “I see now why we took two cars.”
No, he didn’t.
Emanuele only saw the pretty girl sitting next to me. That was what anyone with eyes would see. But they wouldn’thearher. They didn’t listen to the clever things she said. The eyes couldn’t see her grit and inner strength.
But I did.
And I was smart enough to claim her before some other fucker tried to snatch her up.
“Ready?” I clipped out.
Emanuele pulled the small semi-automatic rifle—which was legally registered as a pistol—from his backpack. “I’ve got your back.”
We approached a stack of green containers. The “private” security guys drew up straight as we approached. They didn’t reach for their holsters fast enough. Emanuele’s AR-15 sang a sweet song, cutting them down. They didn’t stand a chance. We drug their bodies between the rows of containers.
