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“I caught the words ‘Russian mob’…?”
“Bratva,” I correct automatically.
“Hotanddangerous,” Mabel purrs. “This day couldn’t possibly get any better.”
“Mabel!”
Her eyes focus on me. “Is he capable of hurting you?”
“I think…no. Not physically, no,” I hedge. “But I can’t be sure that he won’t hurt my father.”
“I take it they have history?” I nod and Mabel’s face scrunches up in concentration. “What do you want to do, honey? Just tell me, and I’ll help you.”
“I have to…I have to tell Dad. I need to get Adam and…” I trail off, realizing that I was right earlier—wehavestayed in this town too long. “Oh, God, Mabel—he’s found us.”
“Sweetheart,” she says softly, resting both her hands on my arms, “look at me for a moment.” She waits until I’m still before she asks in a quiet, cigarette-stained rasp, “Tell me this: why did you run?”
“Because…my sister… They’re married… We… I… Adam…” I’m a stuttering, stammering mess, but Mabel seems to grasp the big picture in an instant.
“You were in love with her husband and you decided to take yourself out of the equation?”
“He wasn’t her husband then. When Adam was conceived, they hadn’t even met yet.”
“Complicated.” Mabel purses her lips and nods. “One day, you’ll have to tell me the whole story. But right now…if you need to go, I’ll stall him.” Her eyes are bright with determination. I have never loved her more.
“Are you sure?”
“Are you kidding? Did you see the man? I’m more than happy to keep him company for as long as he could possibly require. He did seem interested in the pie. And if he likesthatflavor…”
I manage a weak smile. “Thank you,” I say, giving Mabel a quick hug. It’s the only goodbye we’re going to get if I succeed in what I have planned next.
I head into the back room, snatch up my bag, and follow Bruce out through the service entrance.
I don’t look back as I go.
I know from experience: looking back can get you killed.
7
ILARION
“Smoke?”
I shake my head. “Quit years ago.”
The man nods sadly and puts the packet of cigarettes back in the pocket of his grease-stained chef’s pants. “Same here, actually. Wifey made me do it. So if she asks, I did quit.”
“You must have a penchant for self-sabotage.” Under my breath, I add, “Apparently, so do I.”
We turn in unison when we hear footsteps approaching from the alley behind us. Bruce looks surprised. I’m just quietly resigned to the next stage of this never-ending war.
Sure enough, a moment later, Taylor rounds the corner, bag in hand. She catches sight of me and her eyes bulge out of their sockets.
“Going somewhere?” I ask casually.
Her hair is mussed around her face and sweat slicks her forehead. She still looks like every fantasy I’ve had in the last five years. Not everything is exactly the same: she’s lost some weight in her face, gained some fear in her eyes, and her jaw is clenched tighter than ever before.
Come to think of it, she looks like a car is about to run her down in the middle of the road and she’s just accepted her fate.
