Page 4 of Forever: The Companion

TWO

“Zulla!”

Renzo spun on his heels at the familiar voice calling his name from behind him as he headed through the lower halls of The League. Alessio, a high-ranking member of The League and independent assassin, like Ren, stuck his head out of the knife room. On another day, he might have stopped to have a conversation with the man—he even noticed him when he passed the room—but today, he had other things on his mind.

Better things, really.

No offense to Les.

Alessio arched a brow at the sight of Ren, who was still walking backward and not even stopping at the call of his name.

“Too busy to have a conversation with me or what?”

Renzo laughed, entirely unbothered and knowing Alessio wouldn’t be offended. The last few years of Les’s life had been kind to him, maybe even softened the guy’s fast attitude in a way. Renzo figured settling down and having a couple of kids could do that for a person. “Nah, I uh—”

“Oh, wait, you were on the Bosnia job, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, just got back in. The rest of the team is getting in on the next flight coming in. I took the only opening they had on a flight before theirs.”

“Right,” Alessio said, rocking back on his heels. “The wife is waiting for you. I get it.”

He bet.

Shit, Alessio had two spouses to get back to.

“We’ll chat another time, then, yeah?” the guy asked.

Ren nodded. “You know it. Later.”

Alessio slipped back into the room he’d come out of and Renzo spun around on his heels, heading deeper into the complex. He walked familiar halls, took the stairs a couple of levels higher, and met up with a few more familiar faces along the way. Of course, none of that stopped him longer than a quick hello before he continued on his way. It didn’t take long for him to make it to the office upstairs that Dare rarely left when inside the compound. After arriving back from any job, each member who was independent for The League was required to debrief. It didn’t matter if they all had the exact same thing to say.

Policy and all that shit.

You know, if breaking policy meant losing your life and all.

“Renzo,” Dare greeted just as Renzo came to stand beyond the entrance of the man’s office. The door forever seemed to be open, although Renzo never truly understood why. It seemed dangerous, in a way, but maybe it proved just how much of a danger the man who owned the office was. That, and Dare had access to every single camera within The League’s complex. He knew each and every person who came inside, and exactly where they were while within the walls of the place. “Good to see you in one piece, after that one—your phone is on the table. Your wife has been sent a message letting her know you’re back in the country.”

“Perfect.”

“Go ahead and let me know the specifics so you can head out.”

A lot of shit had changed at The League for Renzo over the years. He wasn’t sure if it was his seniority at the place, despite the fact that he sometimes wondered if he made the right choice in staying as a member. Or was it just the respect that he’d earned over time doing what he did here? But things were different. There was a mutual appreciation all around the board for the people he’d found and had here and he liked that just fine. Part of it, he knew, revolved around the fact that even though Renzo no longer had to be here working, he still was.

Renzo did as Dare requested and briefed the man on the Bosnia job, which had taken three days longer than he’d expected it would. That little time delay had been based on factors that were entirely out of The League’s hands because of circumstances. None of which would cause a problem for them. What mattered was that the job was finished successfully. Still, everything had been standard, and the client who’d hired the team would be happy to know that he’d blown open that safe without causing more than a million in damages.

Which meant more money.

While he spoke, he headed deeper into the office and picked up his waiting—entirely charged—cell phone from the table in the middle. Dare said nothing as he continued to talk while scrolling through the phone to all the text messages—three hundred missed ones, in fact. Mostly from Lucia, and a few from Diego and his sister, likely.

But most came from her.

Lucia.

He smiled, pulling up her thread of messages to go through a few at the very bottom. As she always did, whether he was out of the country or just spending the night at Rose’s after being out with Diego for a day, she updated him throughout the day about what was happening or what she was doing with messages.

A good morning, love you when the sun rose for her, and a night, babe, fucking miss you when she laid her head down on a pillow at night.

But especially when he was out of the country, she tended to do it more. It gave him something to look forward to when coming home. He’d sit through her talking about all that he’d missed while he was gone, too.