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Without a goodbye to either of them, I leave, punching the elevator button with more force than I need.
I could never stop Audrey from walking away from us, but I can do everything possible to make sure she is safe. And I just happen to have connections into that world thanks to Austin. My plan is simple: find every single monster that is associated with Jason Vanross and the De Luca Mafia and take them out.
But I’d have to play a part to do it. I am familiar with pretending to be something I’m not, so it should be simple.
I send a text to Jason, with the ruse of talking about the job that no longer mattered. He agrees to meet me in Midtown at two. It is only twenty blocks, so I choose to walk, and I have a few hours.
With plenty of time to kill, my long legs cover the distance, and soon, I’m standing outside the sushi place he suggested. He isn’t here yet, of course. But I go in and check the exits. They only have the front door and probably one from the kitchen. I check out the bathrooms. Windowless. That means no quick escape that way. After I’m satisfied that I can defend myself if needed, I head back out and walk the two miles to Central Park to eat up some time.
When I return a few hours later, the sight of the man makes my blood boil. Rage turns my vision red, but I have information to gather, and I need to use my wits, not my fists, in this situation. Not even my walk worked to calm me.
I slide into the booth across from him. At least I am facing the street and entrance. He probably doesn’t want his back to the room, but I like to see the exits.
“Vanross,” I say in greeting. It is all I can get out without wanting to beat him senseless right here.
“Saint,” he replies. “What is so urgent?”
“The plan is changing. Our thief backed out.”
He chuckles, a greasy sound that makes my stomach turn. “So you need one of mine?”
“I know you have connections to the old De Luca Mafia. I’m sure they had someone on the roster that could do it.” I attempt to relax back into the seat, one hand flat against the table and the other laying on my thigh.
His eyebrows go up, and he grins. “De Luca Mafia,” he says. “Yeah, I know a few trust worthy guys.”
“Can I get introductions?”
He shrugs. “Depends. What’s it worth to you?”
He means money. Of course he does. The slimy bastard probably believes money makes the world turn. He doesn’t realize that without class, you could have all the money in the universe and still not be able to buy your way into society’s circles.
“It would be worth your time,” I say, draping the arm that had been on the table across the back of the booth.
“I’ll reach out to my contacts and be in touch,” he replies.
I nod and stand. I offer the snake my hand to shake and as his fingers curl around mine; I catch sight of Audrey staring at me with wide eyes from the street. Her eyes drift to Vanross, and she shakes her head as if she doesn’t understand, and then she darts. Like a startled cat, she disappears into the busy street.
She read something else in that handshake, and I wonder how long she stood there for. Does she think I made a deal with him to turn her over?
With barely a goodbye to the asshole, I run after her. She is able to weave through the crowd as if she is an expert dancer and each of the bodies is her partners.
“Audrey, wait!” I call over the busy street. Shit, is everyone flooding the streets so I can’t catch up to her? Finally, a wide opening yawns in front of me, and I dash into it, covering lost ground and reaching her just before she flees across a crosswalk. “Audrey, it isn’t what it looks like.”
She looks back at me, her eyes dipping to my fingers around her arm with venom. I release her as if I am burned, but she doesn’t run. “What does it look like, Dean?”
Dean. Not Saint.
I can’t decide on an expression, and my lips twist between a smile and a frown. “It looks bad, but I just need to make sure you’re safe.”
“By shaking his hand?” Her voice breaks, and I see the crack in her anger at the hurt just below the surface. “Do you even know what those fingers did to me? What he used his hands for? What weapons he dragged over my skin to cut me open?” She swallows hard and inhales a shaky breath. Then she takes the hand that shook his and spreads my fingers wide, her total attention on my palm as she says her next words. “He is the worst of them all and a reminder of why I don’t trust alphas. Why I shouldn’t crave a pack.”
When she drops my hand, it feels like goodbye. More final than this morning. And I panic. She can’t go. She can’t leave me. Not now.
As she attempts to slip away, I wrap my fingers around her biceps and tug her back to me. She folds into my chest as if she was made to fit perfectly in my arms.
“Don’t,” I say. Don’t go? Don’t do this? Don’t break me? Don’t think the worst of me? All the above.
Sending a clumsy text to a driver to pick us up, I hold her to me, because I am not letting her go. I’m not Austin, I can’t let her walk away. I am a selfish bastard, and she will be happy, eventually. Felix and I will make sure of it.
