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“I agree with you. Something is off. It might be my imagination, but I’m not taking any chances.”
I take her face into my hands and let my eyes rest on hers. She’s wearing her green contact lenses and even though the color is artificial, I’m still being drawn into her depth. It’s her essence that calls to me.
“I’m sorry we have to cut this trip short. I know how much being at these events means to you. It’s your way to stay close to your mum and your grandad. How about we go to the Miami Grand Prix next year? It’s closer to home, and we remain on American soil where we have more resources.”
Her gaze softens, and she smiles up at me. It’s the most perfect sight every single time.
I melt. I would literally do anything for this woman. Am I a lucky bastard or what?
“I love you, Ade. Thank you for everything you do for me.” Her lips find mine, and their softness makes the butterflies dance. You’d think after weeks of being together, they’d settle down, but there’s seemingly no end to them.
As much as I hate to, I keep the kiss short and take her hand. “Let’s go. Try not to look over your shoulder,” I instruct.
Together we leave the grandstand and head towards the exit.
“Are we being followed?” Ella asks.
“No,” I answer truthfully.
They’re not following us; they have a better system in place. I spotted two of the gym-junky Italians talking into their phones. They appear to have enough people here to have stationed them at strategic points. When we pass a checkpoint, they just call it in.
I’m racking my brain about how they could have found Ella. Where did we slip up?
But that’s something to analyze later. Right now, I need to focus on getting us out of here unfollowed.
When we exit the arena, we go to the front of the waiting line of taxis and jump in. “Take us to the airport,” I instruct the driver.
Ella’s puzzled gaze lands on me, but she remains silent until the driver listens to a soccer broadcast on the radio and begins shouting at the device.
“Why are we going to the airport? What about our bags?” she whispers.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get them. But it’s easier to disappear at the airport. It’s just a precaution in case someone does, in fact, follow us.”
If I had our passports with us, we might have jumped onto the next available flight out of here, despite the company jet waiting for us at a nearby private airport. But our IDs are securely stashed away in our hotel room safe, along with my gun; I couldn’t take it along to a public event. I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I had it on me right now.
Ella nods her understanding and folds her hand around mine. They are cold and clammy, and I put my other hand on top of hers to warm them up. There’s a light tremor in her pulse, and I try to be especially calm in hopes it will transfer to her.
“Lucida, look at me.” When her eyes rise to meet mine, I give her a reassuring smile. “Everything will be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m not concerned about me. I worry about you, and what could happen if we get caught. I feel sick just thinking about it.”
“Then don’t. No good can come from it. Besides, nobody is going to catch us. Have a little faith in me.”
I turn around and scan the cars on the road. It’s not hard to spot them. A couple of rows back, a black sedan weaves in and out of the traffic, four large goons inside, but from what I can tell, De Marco isn’t amongst them.
Where is the asshole? Are they even his men, or are we dealing with an unknown enemy?
“I have all the faith in you, Ade,” Ella replies. “But we’re outnumbered. Tiero has a lot of men working for him. And it’s the same with his competition, if it’s them who are after me.”
I kiss her forehead. “It’s not quantity but quality. In my experience, the basic foot folk of these crime lords aren’t the smartest. Never forget, Sunshine, I’m trained for this.”
She forces a smile, but it’s obvious she isn’t convinced. It’s hard to stop negative thoughts once they’re spiraling.
“I need you to stop thinking about worst-case scenarios. They’re only going to make you more anxious. Let’s talk about something fun… like…” I think for a moment. “Like our engagement party. Where do you want to have it?”
She studies my face as if deciding if she wants to be distracted. After a breath or two, I’m rewarded with a genuine smile. “At the brewery, of course. What decor do you want?”
This will surprise her, but I already thought about it when it became obvious I needed her to be my wife.
