Page 95 of City of Wind and Lies

"Sorry, Wren," he whispers, wrenching tape from a roll and securing it over my lips.

I try to scream, forcing the sound from my throat, but even if anyone could hear me, the crescendo of sirens around us drowns my muffled cries.

"Shit," he mumbles, crouching down and threading his arms under my own.

Sheer panic sears through my veins as he starts to drag me across the concrete. I arch my neck, catching sight of the trunk of a black sedan open and waiting. I thrash, trying to raise my leg to kick myself free, only to be met with resistance. My eyes dart to my ankles, where white zip ties hold them together.

My throat tightens at the realization I'm fucking helpless, and red hot tears sluice down my cheeks.

The pavement bites into my skin where my clothes have rucked up as Trey pulls me down the curb and across the asphalt. He shifts around, sliding an arm under my knees and hoisting me up.

A sullen look hangs heavy on his features as he puts me in the trunk. He reaches up to close the lid and my eyes flicker to my phone, mentally cursing myself for not getting ahold of it.

Trey follows my gaze, brows slanting as his throat bobs with a swallow. He cranes his neck around like he's checking for something before he jogs over and grabs my phone.

I can see the screen light up as he types something on it and chuckles lowly. "1-2-3-4 is the worst password."

"Let's go!" The first voice shouts as red and blue lights flash in the distance.

Trey slips the phone into the pocket of his worn jeans, mouthing sorry one last time before he presses the lid down, concealing me in the darkness.

30

"No Service"

Heaving a sigh, I slip my phone back into my pocket and kick an ankle up to rest on the opposite knee.

Even at forty-thousand feet in the air, I keep checking it, willing a message from Wren to come through. I've had the barrel of a gun pressed to my temple more times than I can count but I've never felt as powerless as I did hearing an explosion on my call with Wren.

The meeting with Volkov and his second went great. I paid a fee, we severed ties on the drugs, and left on good terms for any future business opportunities. After more drinks, Rocco and I finally decided to head back to the hotel so we could leave bright and early. Knowing how my old man's been toward Wren and how strong my Ma can come across, I called her on the drive to check in.The way her voice cracked when she said my name, dejection coating her words, sobered me up real quick.

Rocco couldn't get ahold of my dad, so I don't know what the fuck is happening and why he's claiming Wren is Frankie's daughter. My throat bobs with a harsh swallow. I don't know what sort of sick joke the world thinks it's playing on me by making the daughter of my first kill the mother of my child, but I'm not laughing.

"Pilot says we're about twenty minutes out," Rocco says, taking up the large white leather seat across from mine.

"I want Dallas and Rhodes to meet us in Northbrook, everyone else needs to be on high alert and ready." My fingers stroke idly over the outline of my phone in my slacks. "And then call O'Ryan, if he's not on scene he needs to be."

"Got it," Rocco nods, fingers dipping into his collar and curling around his chain.

As uneasy as I feel, I know the fact there was an explosion near my parents is hitting Rocco twice as hard. My dad's the closest thing he’s had to a father since he lost his own.

"Whatever's happened, we'll handle it. I'm here for you, cousin."

"I know," Rocco replies.

We sit in silence, the uncertainty of what's waiting for us when we land hanging heavy in the air as we stare out the windows. I can’t let this push Wren away. I know I said before I’d let her go if that’s what she wanted, but that was a goddamn lie. She’s fucking mine, and the only place I’ll ever let her be is by my side or beneath me. I can’t change the past, but I can damn well make sure she’s my future. I blow out a sigh and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and cradling my head in my hands.

"She loves you," Rocco assures.

"I know... but it might not be enough."

"You don't look at someone the way Wren looks at you and just walk away without even a discussion. Give her some credit, Bowie, she's taken to your lifestyle pretty easily, and it's not like you or anyone else knew for that matter."

He's right. Well, at least I hope he is. My old man always had a soft spot for kids, and if he'd known Frankie had one in that compound, things would have gone down differently.

I'm practically crawling out of my skin as the city lights come into view and we start our descent. The sooner I lay eyes on Wren and my parents and make sure they're okay, the sooner Wren and I can unpack her lineage.

"Cazzo, my phone's dead," Rocco murmurs at the first bounce of the tires touching the tarmac.

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