Page List


Font:  

left hand and a BLT sub in my right, as per his texted request. Apparently the airplane food was less than to be desired, and he was wasting away with starvation—his words, not mine.

He was one of the first into the baggage claim area, along with a middle-aged woman he was chatting up a storm with. His face split into a grin when he saw me.

I bit my lip and looked him over—jeans and his blue Millwall FC shirt, worn Nike sneakers (or as he liked to call them, trainers), and a sweater tied loosely around his waist. He still wore a travel pillow looped around his neck and had a rucksack slung over one shoulder as he dragged his carry-on behind him. His hair was in disarray, one side flat where he’d most likely been asleep, and the dark circles under his eyes showed he was already feeling the jet lag.

He said something to the woman he was with, and she looked over at me, sending me a little wave and a smile. I waved back awkwardly, my hands full so it was more of just a coffee salute. I smiled. Toby could talk to anyone; you could put him in a room with a bunch of strangers, and in no time, he’d be talking to them all like old friends and would know their life stories.

“Hey,” I said as he stopped in front of me.

He grinned, stepping closer and wrapping his arm around me, pulling me against his body as his lips found mine. I squeaked from shock against his lips, awkwardly holding my arms out straight, trying not to spill coffee down his back. When he let me go and broke the kiss, his tired eyes met mine. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said.

“Me or the coffee?” I joked, holding the cup out to him.

“Mmmmm,” he groaned, taking it and swallowing a large gulp.

A bad smell of rancid meat or something hit me, and I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “Ugh, what is that smell?” I held my nose, breathing through my mouth.

He groaned again, this time not in appreciation of the coffee, and shook his head. “Oh, man, I smell like vom, don’t I?” He dipped his head, taking a few tentative sniffs of his shirt. “Flight was rough; I puked. A lot. Managed to get most of it in those stupid paper bags, but I’m pretty sure my Millwall shirt is gonna stink like chunder forever now.”

I grinned wickedly. “You poor baby.”

He nodded, his lips turning down at the corners playfully. “I know, right? I told you I wasn’t a good flyer. Me Gregory is killing me too, ’ad to buy a stupid ruddy pillow on the plane, cost a fortune. The things a guy ’as to do to please his fiancée, huh?” He sighed jokingly, reaching up and rubbing his neck—or his “Gregory Peck,” as cockney rhyming slang translated.

“You totally took one for the team,” I replied, smiling gratefully. “I’m glad you’re here.” That wasn’t a lie. Toby always had this ability to put me at ease and brighten anybody’s mood. It was part of his sparkling, jokey personality.

“I missed ya,” he replied, leaning down to kiss me again.

“You, too.” I looked up at him and willed there to be some spark of passion. I hadn’t seen him for days, I should have wanted to rip his clothes off and lick him all over, but other than a small pitter-patter in my heart and gratitude that he was here, there was nothing. I guess it was hard to lust after a guy when he looked like death and smelled like vomit, though. Well, that was what I told myself anyway.

“Come on then, let’s go home and you can shower,” I suggested, waving my hand under my nose as we headed for the exit. “We’ll have to drive with the windows open,” I added, grinning.

He gasped, faking horror. “We can’t do that, me ’air will go all poufy,” he joked, winking at me. As we stepped out of the door, he stopped and looked around. “So this is what all the fuss is about, is it? The Big Apple.”

I nodded. “Yep. Welcome to New York. What d’you think?”

He looked left and right, then up at the cloudy blue sky. He drew in a big breath and then coughed dramatically. “Smells just like London.”

I burst out laughing. For the first time in days, I actually felt like laughing. It was definitely a talent Toby had.

CHAPTER 13

JAMIE

HOW IS IT you can be surrounded by people but feel so alone? It was almost tragic that I’d gotten so used to loneliness that I barely even registered it. But now that I’d seen Ellie again, touched her, kissed her—even if it was only for the briefest of seconds—all I wanted was more. Half my crew sat around me, listening to Dodger’s plans for the weekend boost we had lined up, but I barely heard a word.

“So, we’ll need two people Saturday night to drive the cars back once Kid and I have boosted them,” Dodger said, looking around the room. “Volunteers? I know a few of you are off this weekend for the rager that is Shaun’s wedding.”

Shaun wasn’t with our crew anymore. Once he got out of prison, he’d decided that he wanted to go straight. Well, actually, his girlfriend, who had popped out a kid while he was inside, “strongly encouraged” the decision. They were getting married this weekend. I’d been invited and would probably make an appearance at the ceremony but ditch early during the reception.

Dodger had agreed to this boost for the weekend, forgetting that half of his reliable workers knew Shaun from years back and would want to go. Now, he was short on staff.

“I’m in,” Chase offered. He was fairly new to my crew, young, a little hotheaded for my liking, but loyal.

Dodger nodded, scribbling his name down on his pad before looking around for the next brave warrior.

Ed sat forward. “I can do it. I wasn’t planning on going to the wedding anyway.” I smiled to myself at that. He hadn’t been invited in the first place. “I know I don’t usually get involved with boosting, but I can drive a car,” he offered.

“Great,” Dodger answered, nodding in appreciation, picking up his pad again. “That’s settled, then. Kid and I will boost, Chase and Ed will bring the cars back, and Ray will handle things here and get the shipment ready and loaded.”

I held one finger up in a wait a second gesture. “I need Ed for Saturday night. If I’m busy all night, I need someone on protection duty,” I said, shrugging when Dodger groaned in frustration. I looked over at Ed, who was frowning in my direction, clearly pissed that he was being pulled back from a job for something that he no doubt considered a menial task. Nothing menial about it, though; To me, it was the most important job I ever trusted anyone with. “I’ll pay you the same rate the boosters are getting. I just need someone there to watch and make sure the Salazars don’t go near her.”

For the last two days I’d had people parked outside Ellie’s house around the clock, watching to make sure Mateo didn’t do anything moronic like sign his death warrant. I’d taken a few shifts, usually the evening ones, but I couldn’t do it all by myself. So far nothing bad had happened. In fact, other than yesterday, when she drove to her grandmother’s house and did an airport run to pick up the guy I hated with a burning passion because he got to touch something I so desperately wanted to be mine, she barely left the house other than to go to the hospital or the grocery store.

I was right to be cautious, though, no matter how much these guys looked at me like I was acting crazy. Rule number one in this business: Never show anyone that you cared about anything. Never show emotion, never show vulnerability, because there were always people watching, waiting to exploit any weaknesses. There were always people like Mateo out there, wanting to gain any advantage they could get. I’d fucked up royally on Tuesday night, and now I was desperately trying to rectify the situation and ensure Ellie was safe and they weren’t going to go after her to get to me. I wasn’t sure they would, but I was covering all bases just in case.

Dodger sighed, but his eyes showed me he understood. He knew how I felt about Ellie and what she meant to me. He and Ray had been the only two I’d really confided in about it. “Okay, so still need one volunteer...” He looked around the room slowly.

After a tiny bit of persuasion, Enzo agreed to leave early with me. The money was too big of a draw for him while he was trying to

get that dream apartment.

“That’s a wrap, then. You guys can all knock off for the night, ain’t nothing brewing around here that needs doing tonight,” Dodger said, waving everyone else out of the room. He turned to me once we were alone. “What about you, what are you up to? Wanna go grab some food?”

“Sure, why not,” I replied. In my pocket, my cell phone buzzed with a new message. I pulled it out at the same time Dodger pulled his out, both of us reading the preview message. My heart leaped in my chest. There was a race organized for tonight, starting in three hours. Dodger did a little jig on the spot and pumped his fist. I drummed on the table excitedly.

“About damn time!” The timing was perfect too, especially as I’d just managed to get my beauty of a car fixed up this week.

“I’m so gonna kick your ass tonight.” Dodger grinned, slipping his cell back into his pocket. “I’ll give you a little wave from the winner’s podium, all right?” He winked at me and turned for the door. “Better go gas up my baby.”

“So we’re not doing food?” I called to his back, laughing.

* * *

The place was set, a sleepy town on the North Fork of Long Island. It was almost midnight when I followed behind Dodger’s red Ford Shelby GT500 as we made our way slowly, and as inconspicuously as possible, to the designated starting area.


Tags: Kirsty Moseley Fighting to Be Free Romance