DANTE’S POV I was lying flat on a mattress as hard as concrete, every spring in the box spring was digging into my ribs.
The room reeked of stale cigarette smoke, damp carpet, and a smell of bleach that fooled no one.
Even at gunpoint, I wouldn’t have been able to name the place.
Just another fleabag motel with coffin-like beds, the fourth one in two days.
“I swear, Nando,” I growled into the phone, staring up at the water-stained ceiling.
“When this is over, I’m buying a nice big shovel and burying you right next to Julio’s men.” The rapid clacking of keys mingled with Fernando’s weary sigh.
“Always a pleasure, Dante.
Glad to see my tactical genius is being properly appreciated.” “Tactical genius…” I sat up abruptly, my boots clattering against the sticky linoleum.
“The bed is stiffer than the corpses we left in that alley.
I’ve forgotten what clean sheets feel like.” “If you want to stay under the radar, you have to stay somewhere that doesn’t ask for ID and leaves no trace,” Fernando retorted.
“If you check into a hotel with room service, his goons will know where you are before your glass even hits the table.” “Julio is a piece of shit.” Fernando snorted.
“Can’t deny that.” “Fucking hell,” I sighed.
“What about Rico and Gabriela?” “Rico and Gabriela are already at the Pilsen bungalow, five kilometers from where we’ll be staying.” I rested my elbows on my knees, jaw clenched, the exhaustion of the past few days making my head ache.
“All right,” I grumbled.
“Send me the address and meet us there.” “I’m sending them now,” Fernando said.
“I’m already on the way.
Try not to wreck the place before you leave.” My phone buzzed, displaying the address a second later.
I slid it into my back pocket, grabbed my gun from the nightstand, and racked the slide to check the chamber before holstering it.
I looked at Marco, who was standing by the door with his hands folded calmly in front of him.
He stood up straighter when I met his eyes.
“Are we moving?” “Yes.” I grabbed my jacket off the plastic chair.
“Nando sent the coordinates for the new safe house.
He’ll meet us there.” “Round up the other guys.
We leave in ten minutes.” Marco nodded.
“Got it, boss.” He turned, opened the door, and stepped out.
I glanced around the room to make sure nothing had been left behind.
Satisfied, I headed for the exit, slipping on my coat as I went.
The drive took twenty minutes through the snow, leaving the bright city lights behind for the dark industrial side of town.
Old warehouses, train tracks, and brick buildings were all buried under the heavy snowfall.
The streets were completely empty, the kind of quiet money usually bought after midnight.
Marco turned off the headlights two blocks early and rolled past a line of dark shops.
Ahead, the safe house came into view, a four-story brick building with dark windows and a high fence topped with razor wire.
He clicked the gate remote, and the heavy iron door slid open quietly to let us into the yard.
It shut right behind us, the storm already washing away our tire tracks in the snow.
I got out of the car, my boots sinking into the deep snow.
Every step made my sore ribs ache.
Marco parked next to a gray armored sedan that was already sitting in the yard.
Off to the side, a concrete ramp led down to the basement garage where Nando ran his operations.
We walked down the ramp.
At the bottom, the steel door unlocked with a quiet click, and Fernando stepped out to meet us.
He held a tablet in his hand, snowflakes resting in his blond curls.
He looked right at the rip in my jacket and smirked.
“Looking good, Dante,” he said, eyeing me with dark eyeliner around his blue eyes.
“You look like something a stray dog dragged out of the river.” “And you look like you got lost on your way to a punk rock show,” I shot back, walking past him into the warm entryway and shaking the snow off my leather coat.
“Tell me there’s hot coffee in this place, or I’m throwing you out into the storm.” “On the counter.
Black and hot,” Fernando grumbled, turning to follow Marco and me inside while the rest of our guys came in behind us.
He tapped his tablet, and the heavy doors sealed shut behind us with a solid thud.
“The perimeter is totally wired,” Nando said.
Julio’s goons could search this neighborhood for a month in this storm and never connect this place to us.” “Good,” I said, walking over to the counter in the main room where a pot of coffee was steaming next to a wall of computer screens.
I poured myself a mug and took a hot sip, letting the heat burn away the chill in my throat.
Fernando tapped his screen again, his face tightening up.
“Speaking of Julio, I tapped his phone lines twenty minutes ago.
The old man is losing his mind.
He ordered his men to kill any captain who isn’t loyal to him by midnight, and he’s bringing in extra shooters from out of state.
He knows he missed you at the motel, Dante, and he’s wasting his own men trying to hunt you down.” “Let him waste them,” I growled, pulling my jacket tighter around me.
“Every guy he loses chasing ghosts is one less guy we have to fight when we hit back.” I set my empty mug on the counter with a loud clack and turned to Marco and the rest of the guys.
Marco was leaning against the doorframe, dark circles under his eyes, wiping snow off his sleeves.
“Marco,” I said, catching his eye.
“Go get some sleep.
You’ve been on edge for two days straight.” Marco didn’t argue.
He just nodded, looking wiped out.
“Where are we sleeping?” I looked at Nando.
“Where’s my room?” Fernando pointed down the dark hallway.
“Second door on the right.
Marco’s room is right across from yours.” “Good,” I said.
“I’m taking a shower, changing my clothes, and then I’m leaving.” Fernando frowned and crossed his arms over his coat.
“Leaving?
Where?
You can barely stand, it’s past midnight, and it’s snowing heavy out there.
Julio’s guys are everywhere!” “I’m washing up, changing my shirt, and leaving,” I said, walking past him without slowing down.
“Stay here, watch the screens, and make sure Marco stays in bed.” Ten minutes later, I was standing under a hard stream of hot water in the small bathroom.
The heat soaked into my sore ribs and washed away the dried sweat, dirt, and gunpowder from the last two days.
The small room filled up fast with warm steam.
As the hot water ran over my face, my thoughts drifted back to Cara.
In the middle of all the blood and chaos, she was the only quiet thing left in my head.
I wondered if she was safe, if she was lying awake listening to the storm, or if she had forgotten about me by now.
The thought tightened something raw in my chest, but I pushed it down, turning the tap off before it could pull me under completely.
I pulled on a plain black shirt, threw my leather coat back on, and grabbed the car keys off the nightstand.
When I walked back out to the main room, Fernando was standing by the door with his arms crossed, his mouth set in a tight line.
“Dante, be smart about this.
You just got here.” I walked right past him and pushed open the heavy steel door to the garage ramp.
The freezing night air blew in, mixing with the steam still on my neck, as snowflakes swirled down the concrete drive into the dark.
I turned to look at him over my shoulder.
“I told you,” I said in a flat, icy voice.
“I have a visit to make.”