Page 13 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

She flinches. “We’re at the airport.”

I look around, realizing I was out for a bit. “Go to long-term parking.”

She does as I ask, but I can see wariness. “Are we flying somewhere?”

For a moment, I consider putting her on a plane to anywhere. But if she’s the target, she’ll be in danger wherever I send her.

“No. We’re getting a car.” I scan the lot. “Find a spot next to a nondescript car. Nothing fancy. Black or blue or silver.” I point. “There.”

She pulls into the spot.

“Can you get your bag?” At this point, I’m not sure I’ll be able to break into the car, much less hotwire it and transfer her suitcase.

“Are you stealing a car?”

“We can’t stay in this one.” I open the door and drag myself out. My body feels like it’s being held down by lead weights.

"We can't just take someone's car!"

I turn to her, my jaw clenched. "It’s this or we hijack a car because I’m not going to let those motherfuckers kill us.”

Her lips tremble, but she holds it together as she gets out of the car and goes to the trunk to retrieve her bag.

"Keep watch.” I walk around the car, feeling underneath for a key box. To this day, I don’t understand people hiding spare keys on their cars, but right now, I’d thank God to find one. When I don’t find one under the car, I check the license plates, and thank fuck, there’s one. Not that I can’t break in and hotwire a car, a skill I learned at twelve years old, but keys make life so much easier.

I decide to make one more move that can give us more time if cops are called. I pull out my multi-purpose knife and flip open the screwdriver. I take off the plates and move to another car a few spots away. I switch the plates.

Then I hand the key to Bella. “You still need to drive.” I’ll be honest, I’m not sure how I’m still upright.

She bites her lip. “I’m not a thief.”

“Would you rather be a thief or dead? Because right now, that’s your choice.”

Terror crosses her face, and only then do I realize that she thinks I’m threatening her when what I meant was whoever sent the hit is still out there. But I don’t clarify that. If she’s afraid of me, it will be easier to manipulate her. I roll my shoulders, feeling bad for having to be like that, which is weird. I’ve never felt guilty at taking care of life and death business before.

She climbs into the car and I get in on the passenger side. “Now we go to the cabin.”

She starts the car, and when we’re back on the Interstate, I let out a breath. I lean back against the seat. The pain grows again as that adrenaline wears off. The full extent of my injury is becoming harder to ignore.

“Why is this happening?” Bella’s voice breaks, and something inside me cracks at hearing it.

I wish I had an answer for her. I wish I could tell her that everything will be okay, that I have a foolproof plan to keep us safe. But the truth is, I'm as lost as she is.

“I don’t know yet, but as long as we stay ahead of whoever did this, I’ll find out.”

Bella nods, but I can see the fear in her eyes. She's trying to be brave, but she's in way over her head.

A pang of guilt twists in my gut. This girl, barely more than a child, has been thrust into a nightmare she never asked for. She should be worrying about college applications or first dates, not fleeing for her life with a bleeding mafioso.

I want to offer her some comfort, some assurance that I'll protect her. But how can I promise that when I can't even protect myself? I’m well aware that I’ll likely bleed to death before we leave Illinois.

“Listen,” I start, searching the glove box for a piece of paper. Next I hunt for a pen, which I find in the center console. I write down Max’s number. “If something happens to me, call this number. Ask for Max. Tell him… tell him everything."

Her eyes widen. “You do know?—”

“I don’t, but I trust him. If I can’t protect you, he’ll be your best shot.”

She stares at the paper and then back on the road.

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