Sem’ya.
Dmitry
Stunned, I look up at Drago. He’s watching me with suspicious eyes. Regardless, he honors Dmitry’s letter. I’m not surprised. Dmitry inspires that kind of loyalty in those who know him.
“We leave in two days. You must give me your first destination tomorrow morning. Supplies must be bought.”
With that, he turns and walks away.
For a few seconds, I stand and watch him go, still shocked, before I snap out of it and move to follow him.
“If you’ll just show me which room is mine . . .” I say loud enough to stop him before he can get out of earshot.
Drago pauses, turning his head just enough that I know he heard me. He grunts once and then starts off in another direction. I follow him inside, through a lush living room to a staircase leading to the lower deck. He turns left down a short hallway and stops in front of a closed door. He opens it and steps aside.
“It’s clean,” he says gruffly before he walks away.
Obviously, I don’t have to worry about him talking my ear off during the trip.
The trip.
I admit I’m a little relieved to have this as an option. When I left the restaurant yesterday, I just knew I had to get away from Marissa, that she deserves to have someone better than me in her life. I didn’t really consider where I’d go. I mean, I’d never willingly go back to running guns. But staying in Atlanta wasn’t an option. I’d be too tempted to pay Marissa a visit. At least now I have a place to go. For a year, anyway.
It’s not exactly what I’d always dreamed. I figured once I put an end to all this shit with my family, I’d end up back in Atlanta. I never really considered what I’d do—maybe open a club like Cash or . . . or . . . Hell, I don’t even know. I guess I never got that far. Maybe on some level I didn’t think it would ever be over. This anger, this hunger is all I’ve known for seven years. I’m not sure how to plan a life without it. It’s been my purpose for so long, I feel a little lost without it.
But now I have this. This gift from Dmitry. All I have to do is be on this boat in two days and I’ll be sailing away from my problems.
But I’ll also be sailing away from Marissa.
Damn! How the hell did I let her get under my skin?
After another few minutes of thought, I walk back the way Drago brought me. It takes me a little bit of exploration to find him. He’s in the galley with two other men.
“I’ll be back. I need to get some things straightened out before I leave.”
I don’t wait for any kind of response. I don’t owe them any more explanation than that. And from what Dmitry’s letter says, these guys are hired hands, so their only task is to do as they’re told.
Making my way from the yacht, I head into downtown Savannah. Since this is where I most often came ashore to do any kind of business, I’ve always used a bank here to access my offshore investments. I’ll need some money before I leave.
If I leave . . .
I push the thought aside. Leaving is the only real choice I have. The only one that’s not something only a selfish bastard would do. And at some point, I guess I’ll have to stop being a selfish bastard, especially if I ever plan to reintegrate back into polite society.
It gives me hope that one day I will.
One day. Maybe in a year.
THIRTY
Marissa
I’m taking a chance that Daddy won’t be too busy to see me, to take a short face-to-face meeting. What I want is to take the coward’s way out and just call. And I might have chosen that route if it weren’t for the text.
When the elevator doors inside my office building slide shut, I press the button for my father’s floor and I pull out my cell phone for the hundredth time. The instant the screen lights up, it shows the text. I imagine that it will be the most recently viewed item on my phone for a long time to come.
It’s not from a number I recognize, but that didn’t stop me from instantly identifying the sender. It’s from Nash.
Maybe there was a time when I hated you, but only for dating my brother who was pretending to be me. All that changed the night I held you in my arms on the balcony. I knew you were more than what other people saw. I still believe that. You’re brave and strong in ways most people aren’t. And at the end of the day, know that there’s at least one person in the world who believes in you. That’s the last thing I want to leave you with other than this: I could’ve taken care of Duffy my way. I had the chance. The only thing that stopped me was you.
Every time I read it, I’m torn between feeling like I can conquer the world and feeling like I’m drowning in sorrow. I knew after talking to Cash that Nash was gone. That was bad enough. But then to hear from him . . . something like this . . . after he disappeared into thin air . . .
I responded to the text, hoping I could have one more chance to talk to him, but all I received was an error message telling me the number was no longer in service. It must’ve been a burner phone, which Cash also warned me about. Nash had told him he’d be getting rid of his phone, but that he’d be in touch. And he did. Then he got rid of that phone, too. So fast. Just like that.
Much like his presence from the very first time we met, Nash rocked my world, then turned around and walked out of it, leaving it in shambles.
At least he left me with something valuable, though—his support. I know enough about him to know he doesn’t give it easily, nor does he give praise or compliments easily. That’s why his words mean so much. I can close my eyes and see them behind my lids, like he typed them on the surface of my brain rather than on a digital screen. There and somewhere deep in my soul, like a tattoo that will forever make all the difference in the world to me.
The elevator door opens with a hushed ding!
Nash is the reason I’m here right now, getting ready to face the bear. It’s time to grow up and live my own life. My way. It’s time to cut ties, whether Daddy likes it or not. And I’ve come here to look him in the eye as I tell him so.
I straighten my suit jacket and stop in front of his secretary’s desk. I smile down at her when she looks up at me.
“Is he in?” I ask.
“He’s on a conference call, but I’m sure he’ll have a minute for you afterward if you don’t mind waiting. Can I get you some coffee? Or would you like me to buzz your office when he’s finished?”
I don’t really want to answer any questions or talk to anyone else in the office before I tell Daddy, so I figure it’s best to just wait.