Chương 4
He flinched, not from pain but from being helped.
“Leave the chair,” he said.
“No.”
“We can’t fit it.”
“We can.”
“The chair is replaceable.”
“You can’t crawl from the garage to wherever we’re going.”
His mouth tightened.
She folded the backrest, released the quick-lock wheels, and placed the chair in the cargo bed in three pieces. Adrian watched her without speaking.
“You’ve been practicing,” he said.
“I live with you.”
The answer seemed to wound him more than an accusation.
Melissa climbed behind the wheel. The baby had begun crying in earnest now, his face red against the blanket.
Adrian took the pistol from beneath his shirt and faced backward.
“Follow the service road,” he said. “No headlights.”
“I know where it goes.”
“Of course you do.”
The cart rolled into the trees.
Rain struck the canvas roof in hard, constant bursts. Branches scraped along the sides. Melissa drove with one hand while holding the baby with the other, keeping the cart slow enough that his head did not bounce.
Behind them, flashlights appeared around the greenhouse.
Adrian fired twice.
The first shot extinguished one light. The second sent the others diving behind the stone wall.
The gunfire startled the baby into silence.
“I hate that he’s getting used to this,” Melissa said.
“He isn’t.”
“He stopped crying.”
“He stopped because the sound changed.”
“That’s not better.”
Adrian looked toward the dark road ahead. “No.”
The service road ended at a low maintenance shed near the property’s western boundary. Beyond it stood a section of old stone wall that had been preserved when the modern fence was installed. Melissa drove behind the shed and stopped beneath an overhanging oak.
Adrian listened to the rain.
“Where now?” he asked.
“There’s a gate in the wall.”
“I had it sealed.”
“My father reopened it.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Did anyone in my organization notice strangers renovating my perimeter?”
“He didn’t use strangers.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Evan.”
Melissa said nothing.
The answer settled between them.
Evan had not been waiting because Adrian sent him. He had been one of Gabriel Romano’s men, hidden inside Moretti security for years.
Adrian looked back toward the property. “He knew who you were.”
“Yes.”
“And he never told me.”
“He was not loyal to you.”
“He took a bullet for us.”
“He was loyal to my father.”
“Your father wasn’t in that greenhouse.”
The words struck with more force than Adrian intended. Melissa saw regret cross his face, brief and unwanted.
She climbed out of the cart.
The hidden gate was behind a curtain of ivy. Evan’s key ring held a flat black key that opened the electronic latch. Beyond the wall, an old asphalt lane led toward a county road.
Parked beneath the trees was a silver accessible van.
Adrian laughed once, without humor. “Your father kept a vehicle outside my house.”
“He planned for things.”
“He planned to extract you.”
“And your son.”
“Our son.”
Melissa turned on him. “You don’t get to correct my language right now.”
Adrian held her gaze. The rain ran from his hair onto his face.
“No,” he said. “I suppose I don’t.”
They transferred into the van. The rear ramp had been left down, and Melissa rolled the disassembled chair inside, locked the wheels back into place, and secured it to the floor. Adrian pulled himself from the cart into the driver’s seat, but his right hand slipped on the wet frame.
Melissa set the baby carefully in the built-in infant seat, checked the straps twice, then helped Adrian without asking.
This time he did not resist.
The infant seat was new. A package of newborn diapers rested beside it, along with bottled water, a first-aid kit, clean clothes in Melissa’s size, and a sealed envelope marked with the crowned wolf.
She stared at it.
Adrian followed her gaze. “How long has this been here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You recognize the handwriting.”
“Yes.”
“Open it.”
The baby cried again.
Melissa looked at the envelope, then at her son.
“No.”
Adrian blinked.
“He eats first.”
She climbed into the second row, closed the door, and drew a privacy blanket across her shoulder. Her hands shook as she opened the robe and guided the baby to her breast. He rooted blindly, found what he wanted, and quieted almost at once.
The ordinary rhythm of his swallowing inside the rain-battered van was so intimate that Melissa nearly broke.
Adrian turned his face toward the windshield.
They sat without speaking. The storm moved through the woods. Somewhere beyond the wall, gunfire cracked again, fainter now.
Melissa watched her son’s ear move with each swallow. A tiny flake of dry skin clung near his hairline. She rubbed it gently with her thumb.
“His left hand does that when he eats,” Adrian said.
The baby’s fingers were opening and closing against her robe.
“I know.”
“I thought it was random.”
“It probably is.”
“I still like it.”
Melissa looked at Adrian’s reflection in the rearview mirror. He was watching them.
“You canceled his appointment.”
“There was a threat.”
“You could have told me.”
“I was trying to confirm it.”
“You were trying to control it before I knew it existed.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t protection.”
“No.”
He said it too readily, and that angered her more.
“You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Agree after the damage is done.”
He looked down at the blood drying across his palm. “It’s a habit.”
“An expensive one.”
The baby finished eating. Melissa lifted him to her shoulder and rubbed his back in slow circles. After a moment, he gave a small burp that sounded absurdly loud.
Adrian’s mouth moved despite himself.
Melissa almost smiled too. Then she saw the silver ring resting against the wet lace of her robe, and the moment closed.
She settled the baby into the car seat and opened the envelope.
May you like
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
If the house is attacked, Rosa has been compromised. Do not go to her. Take the van to Saint Michael’s garage in Paterson. Ask for Daniel Ruiz. Trust no Moretti, including the one you married, unless he tells you what happened at Pier Four without being prompted.
