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“Connor here.”
Grady’s voice came over the speaker. “Boss, we’ve got a problem. It’s Cassidy. She’s gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“I mean, gone, gone. She had me moving some furniture around, and when I went to look for her after, she was gone. The security footage showed her slipping out the front door. She went down the back stairwell and out the service entrance, but we lost her after that. We don’t know where she went.”
The edges of my vision darked in rage and fear, and my heart thudded heavily in my chest. Grady correctly interpreted my silence, and began stuttering excuses. “W-We’re out looking for her now. Do you want me to call the old man?”
“No. I’ll do it. Just let me know what you find.” I hung up. My face was numb, and my hands were shaking.
Cassidy, what have you done?
God—she had no idea how much danger she was in. Mere weeks after an attempt on her life, and she just waltzed out the back door like it was nothing.
If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.
I should have been there more. I should have stayed with her, explained the danger she was in. I thought that giving her some space was the answer, but instead, I might have just inadvertently pushed her further into danger.
She wasn’t at the hospital. That was the first place I checked, but the nurse manning the reception desk said that she’d already left for the day. I just about throttled Grady when he sheepishly told me that he’d waited nearly four hours to call me, hoping she would return to the apartment.
Now I stood outside the shelter on the sidewalk, my emotions seesawing between blind rage and bleak panic. How could she leave like that—how could she be so fucking naive? It was all my fault. I should have just told her. If anything happened to her…
Movement caught my eye across the street. A flash of dandelion yellow, the color of one of her favorite sweaters.
Cursing under my breath, I jogged across the street, dodging traffic with Grady hot on my heels. It was a coffee shop, one of the nameless, faceless little bookish dives that littered Boston. It could have been anywhere, but it was here, and so was she.
It was warm inside, and dark. Cozy. The shop smelled sweetly of roasted coffee, chocolate, and old books, and I couldn’t help but think it was perfect. It was just the kind of place Cassidy would pick, warm and inviting and multilayered, impossible to see all the way down to the little cracks on the inside unless you really, really looked.
She was sitting in the corner with her back to the door, like a baby gazelle at a watering hole, completely unaware she’s surrounded by lions.I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry.
“You want me to go get her, boss?” Grady asked.
“No. You just keep watch outside.” I needed to take a minute to catch my breath. I wasn’t used to this. I was the one who caused the fear and the panic, not the other way round.
I settled at a table in the corner so I could watch her. A tall, willowy barista took my order—a small, black coffee, decaf. I needed to give my hands something to do, but my nerves were wound so tight I thought I might pass out if I had caffeine just then.
I watched her from across the coffee shop. Cassidy was sitting with an older, grey-haired black man and a young woman, co-workers by the look of them. She looked happy. She was smiling—really smiling—and laughing, and my heart ached when I caught a glimpse of the woman he’d seen in those old photographs.
Cassidy’s eyes were bright and she was engaged, talking with them seriously, asking questions and nodding in agreement. Then she’d be telling an animated story, waving her hands around to help her tell the tale as they all laughed. I wished I could hear what she was saying. It was strange, but I guess I never thought about the fact that Cassidy had left her friends behind along with her life. The thought made me feel low and selfish. What that must have been like for her…
It was no wonder she ran.
I felt for her. I really did, but it was a stupid, stupid move on her part. Cassidyknewhow dangerous this life could be, and even though she was unaware of the minute details, she should have known better than to run off like that. If she would have just let me in instead of adopting that ice-queen bullshit she’d been playing at lately, maybe we could’ve worked something out, arranged a meeting with her friends, or something.
“Boss, we’ve got a problem.”
I sighed, suddenly weary to my bones. “Grady, I’m getting really tired of hearing you say that.”
“Well, I’m getting tired of saying it, but it doesn’t change the fact that a couple of Moretti’s guys are camped out on the corner. And they’ve got eyes on this place.”
I took a measured sip of coffee, the muscle ticking in my jaw the only outward sign of my distress. “All right. I’ll go get her. Pull the car around back and keep an eye out for them.”
Bloody hell. Was Moretti the one who took the shot at us outside the apartment? Maybe the Bratva had just been a distraction. How long had he been having her followed right under my nose? Christ! Did they know that our marriage was a just a façade? That they’d been duped?
I set my coffee cup down on the table, suddenly sick to my stomach. Here I was, sitting in a coffee shop in broad daylight in a borrowed sweater that barely covered the bloodstains I still felt trickling down my side, strapped with a gun in my waistband and six feet from my runaway wife while Moretti’s men waited outside to kill her. This shite was spiraling out of control.
I looked out to where Grady had the car idling, mentally calculating an escape route that kept us away from the windows. I squared my shoulders as I approached her table. I had handled hit men and low-life killers, criminals and rival mob bosses. I could handle a pissed off wife.
