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I go to yank the door shut again when one of Semenov’s black Range Rovers comes flying up the street, slithering to a jagged stop twenty metres in front of me, her nose pointing across the incoming traffic.
I palm my gun as the driver gets out, assuming they’re about to give me one of their Bratva greetings, and then I go very still. The rain is still falling, but it’s not heavy enough to hide the way her T-shirt clings to the only body I’ve ever loved, or how it’s framing her dark hair around the only face I’ve ever seen.
Ada.
Ada.
Falling out of the Humvee, I shout her name as I eat up the distance between us. She’s limping badly and her forehead and hands are covered in blood, but her determination to reach me is etched into her features, the same as mine. It was carved there the day we met, and it never faded, no matter how many years we’ve been forced to wait for each other, or how much shit we’ve had to endure in that time.
This isn’t a stolen moment anymore.It’s real and it’s us.
Just before we collide, my mind flicks back to a white dove dancing in the darkness of a bedroom, searching for a meaning in a cage of thorns, and then my arms are full of her,my free bird now, and I’m lifting her high in the air as our mouths and hearts finally find each other again.
I know she’s crying as she takes my face between her hands, but the rain is mixing with her tears.
“How?” I demand, feeling her arms and legs wrap around my body.
“I let the moment define me not end me.”
“Semenov?”
“I shot him three times with your gun.”
“Queen.” I seek out her mouth again to share her victory.
The police cars aren’t distant noise anymore. They’re right on top of us. Sliding her back down to the ground, I glance at the semi-circle of flashing lights. I’m going to have to do some serious talking to get out of this one, but all that pales into insignificance when I catch sight of Viper exploding from the wreckage of Encore with his gun in his hand.
“Firearm!” yells the nearest cop when he clocks his weapon.
Two more hit him from the side and tackle him to the ground, holding him in place with their knees between his shoulder blades.
“Get off me!” he snarls, fighting like hell to free himself.
Dropping Ada’s hand, I sprint over to him, yelling at the cops to release him.
He looks up as I approach, his green eyes wild and raging.“She’s gone, Frankie.” For the first time I hear real pain in his voice. “She left her backpack behind. I told her to never leave her fucking backpack behind…”
I stop dead.
And then I know.
CHAPTER 37
FRANKIE
The holding cell is a standard six by eight with a lifetime of regret smeared across the walls. The whole place stinks of bleach and disillusionment. I can feel it seeping into my Armani suit as I approach the metal bars.
For once, I’m standing on the right side of them, but Viper’s not. He’s pacing like a tiger in his standard prison-issued grey joggers and sweatshirt and stalking me with his eyes.
Mine are stalking him right back.
“What’s going on, Viper? I posted your bail four fucking hours ago, but your solicitor says you’re taking up permanent residence and refusing to leave.” I glance at the cameras above me. “Hate to break it to you, snake eyes, but these guys don’t want you sticking around.”
“I wanted to speak to you and Ada first.” His gaze sweeps to his sister who’s standing next to me in a clean white T-shirt and jeans, looking flawless but shattered.
It’s been a long night.
It’s been a long life.
