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“Good. I want you to find shelter, get warm, and lay low until we arrive. Do not engage if they find you. Do what they tell you, and I’ll come up with a Plan B. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I nod yet again. The cold is obviously freezing my brain because I’m struggling to think straight. But his commanding tone is reassuringly familiar. I may give him shit when we’re working together, but Carl will handle this. He always does.
“We’ll be there as fast as we can. Keep out of sight until we arrive.”
My heart almost plummets when he ends the call and my sense of having a friend nearby fades, but I don’t need further prompting. After scouting around in the area, I find a small cave and huddle inside, shivering. It feels like the temperature is dropping. The phone is my lifeline and I clutch it firmly, holding my breath and ducking further into the cave each time I hear a sound nearby. To keep my mind occupied, I rub rhythmic circles into my throbbing ankle. It’s twisted, but not badly sprained. Thank God for small mercies.
And thankfully, there’s no further sign of the big asshole who’d been slapping me around earlier. Maybe he’s decided to avoid the cold – which would make him smarter than he looks. I curl into a ball against a far wall and huddle with my arms wrapped around myself as I wait. My teeth chatter so hard, I’m sure my jaw is going to be bruised.
After what seems like hours, my phone buzzes. “We’re here,” Carl says. “The app is telling me you’re a few minutes up the hill from us. We’re in the small clearing beside a cluster of firs. I don’t want to come up in case I get spotted and draw attention. Try to keep in the cover of the trees as you move.”
“Thank fuck!” I’m already on my feet and running shakily toward the mouth of the cave. My ankle is screaming but it’s eased after the rubbing – and the adrenaline is helping.
Move legs!
Even though I know it’s unlikely by this stage, I’m still waiting for that fucking guy to appear. I stagger down the hill like my ass is on fire, ducking from tree trunk to tree trunk, expecting a bullet between my shoulder blades with every step I take.
I’m panting and shaking when I see the van at the foot of the hill. Tony is at the wheel. Carl clambers out of the passenger seat as I emerge from the snow haze. Jess is the next to climb out, relief etching lines into her pretty face as she waves me over.
I stumble toward them on stiff legs, limping from my injuries. But the pain doesn’t matter. I’m no longer alone. My friends have come for me, as I knew they would.
Carl catches me up in a hug, then holds me at arm’s length to check me over. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” I say drily. “It’s good to see you too.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.”
I nod, letting him and Jess guide me into the back of the van. It’s blissfully warm. And warmer still as someone wraps a blanket around me. A flask is pressed into my hands and I choke on the burning liquid as I realize it’s been laced with brandy.
“I read it in a book. You should have got it from a big hairy dog or something. You’ll have to make do with me.” Jess grins at me as I stare around at the rest of them.
“All of you came.” It almost has me teary-eyed to see their familiar faces. Aside from Carl, Tony the wheelman, and Jess who handles our planning, there’s Cody the IT kid, and Art, who used to be Pop’s right-hand man.
“Of course, we did, hon.” Carl is back in the front seat. And I’m still shaking like a leaf. “We didn’t know what we’d be facing.”
Tony has his foot on the gas, easing the van back down the narrow trail. Before I realize it, we’re back on tar. I lean my head back, breathing deeply as the familiar rumble of the van lulls me. We’ve been through so much together, all of us. It feels good to be surrounded by them again.
“So what’s the plan?” Carl looks back at me.
“We sell the Star.” There’s no point in waiting any longer. There’s heat from every direction anyway.
“You sure that’s wise, kid?” Art puts a hand on my shoulder. I shrug.
“No other option. I don’t want the buyer to get spooked and pull the deal out from under us.” I’m pretty sure the guy will keep his veil of anonymity whichever way this plays out.
“I’m assuming it was Cartwright’s men who got you?” Carl’s eyes narrow when I don’t respond immediately. “Scarlett…?”
Shit.
I’m going to have to tell them about Anton. About how I’ve been stuck at his estate these past weeks. But how much to reveal? I can’t mention the relationship – or whatever that was. Definitely not the baby.
I stick to the basic facts again.
“It wasn’t Cartwright.” I glance out the window at the passing trees. “There’s another player. Someone completely unrelated. The guys who were after him took me to get information on him.”
“Him? Who ishim?” Art presses.
“Anton Ulianov,” I all but whisper.
