Page 89 of Niccolaio Andretti (The Five Syndicates)
But I am upset. I just hide it well. Instead of telling her this, I say, “I was prepared for something like this to happen.”
I just didn’t think she’d be there when it did, and fuck, that makes me mad. And as the adrenaline fades, I realize how fucked up this is. I put this woman in danger. If she gets hurt, that’d be on me, and I know without a doubt that I would never recover from that.
My expression sobers as I stare at the opposing car, allowing my anger to simmer beneath my skin, hidden to everyone but me. Unfortunately for the guy in front of us, he’s the source of my anger, and I’ve never been one to forgive and forget. It must run in the family, I can’t help but think in the back of my mind.
The driver rolls down his window and sticks both of his hands out for me to see. He places one hand on the roof of his car and uses the other to unlock the car door from the outside handle. I wait impatiently as he steps out, my gun at the ready just in case.
When he’s completely outside of the car and pressed against it, I get out and approach him, Minka following closely behind me. I cuff his hands together with a zip tie I grabbed from my go bag and lead him into the safe house, using him as a human shield in case any intruders got in while we were gone, though I suspect not, because I haven’t gotten an alarm alert on my phone.
After I clear the room and am certain that only Jax is in here, I grab a bag for Minka and toss it to her. “We have to switch safe houses.”
She doesn’t protest, and while she packs up her things, I grab my bag and place it by the door. I didn’t bother unpacking when we came here in case of a scenario like this. I grab Jax, whisper a plan in his ear, grab a seat from the kitchen, pull it in front of the couch, and sit him on it before pushing the driver onto the small couch.
As soon as his sorry ass lands on the cushion, I ask, “What’s your name?”
He stays silent, so I grab his wallet from his front pocket and pull out his driver’s license.
“Hi, David.” I toss his wallet and license on the floor at his feet and gesture in Jax’s direction. “This is Jax. He tried his hand at the bounty, too, and has been living with us since. How long ago was that, Jax?”
“I d-don’t know.”
“Guess.”
“A year?”
I hold back a snort at his theatrics. “And why haven’t I killed you yet?”
“Because your girl likes me.”
“Right. My girl likes you.” I call out, “Minka?”
She peaks her head out of the closet, and I raise my gun and fire three bullets in Jax’s chest in quick succession. He falls back, the movement causing his chair to fall with him, landing on the ground with a thud.
I wait with bated breath for Minka’s reaction. I probably shouldn’t have done that in front of her, and it’s certainly an indicator that I haven’t—and probably never will—abandoned my asshole ways.
But something about this situation and today has me feeling on edge. This is the life I lead. I will always be in danger, and I’ll always be putting others in danger. If Minka can’t accept that, then we should end this—whatever this is—now. And… maybe I want to give her a reason to do so, because I know I sure as Hell won’t.
I’m already too far gone, trapped in the way she makes me feel. Her eyes, her hair, the flush of her soft skin. The way her face lights up at the sight of her sister. And her selflessness, completely misguided but there nonetheless.
Minka lets out an alarmed gasp and eyes Jax’s body with shocked eyes. I try to stand there expressionless, to let her see me for the monster that I am, but at the last minute, I unravel. I fucking wink at her, my face angled away from David, and she relaxes and returns to her packing. And goddamn, the way she trusts me just like that is alarming.
But also exhilarating.
On the couch, I see David jerk back in shock from my peripherals, still staring at Jax, though the chair is covering him from view.
“Are you going to answer my questions?” I continue when he nods, “How did you find me?”
“Someone texted me the location.”
“Who?”
“I-I d-don’t know.”
“So, some stranger just texts you my location out of the blue?”
He nods. “Check m-my phone.”
I grab his phone from his front pocket and open up his text messages. There’s a picture of my face in the first text.
