Page 17 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

I hate that my ego likes what he just said. “So, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Honestly.” His head lolls back to rest against the window. “And since I don’t, I need to protect what matters.”

“Why not leave me behind? I don’t matter.”

“I don’t know that. And despite current appearances, I’m your best chance to survive whatever is going on.”

It’s a little annoying that he doesn’t dispute my comment and say that I matter. Chances are, if I do matter, it’s only as a bargaining chip. If necessary, he’ll hold me hostage to learn whathe needs to know. It’s all the more reason I should let him die or get away.

But the feeling that he’s right in that I need him to survive is equally as strong.

The roads have become more rural, trees lining both sides as we leave Indiana behind and enter Michigan. Each mile feels like an eternity.

"We're in Michigan," I tell him, trying to keep my voice steady. "How are you feeling?"

He doesn’t respond. My anxiety spikes. I press down harder on the accelerator, silently willing the car to go faster.

We finally get to my friend’s cabin. It’s too early for ski season and too cold to enjoy the lake, so I’m hoping no one is here. I pull up to the cabin, noting it looks deserted.

“Check for cameras,” Nic mumbles, his voice weak but still commanding.

I glance over at Nic, surprised he’s awake. “Like security and doorbell?”

He nods. I get out of the car, shivering at the cold wind. I walk up to the door and look along the porch and roof line but don’t see anything that looks like security cameras. I walk the perimeter and still don’t see anything.

I return to the car. "Nothing," I report back, leaning into the car. "At least, nothing I can see."

“Can you pull around back? Hide the car?” Nic asks.

I have to pull the car into the back yard to do that, but I do. I help Nic out of the car, supporting his weight as best I can as we step up on the porch to the back door.

“Here.” He hands me a small packet and instructs me to take out a tool.

“What’s this?”

“To open the door. Unless you know if they hide a key.”

Oh, my God. He’s asking me to break in. Although, how else were we going to get in?

“Can’t you do it?” It’s bad enough that I’m involved in car theft.

“I don’t think so.”

My hands shake as I take out the tool and follow Nic’s instructions to unlock the deadbolt and the knob. It’s scarily easy.

I help Nic inside the kitchen door. For a moment, he leans against the wall as I shut the door and lock it, wondering why I’m bothering if it’s so easy to break in.

“Make sure lights are off, unless they’re set on timers. And close the curtains.”

He’s quite the expert at all this. I’m not sure whether I’m more disturbed or relieved.

"This is wrong," I say, more to myself than to Nic. "We shouldn't be here. We're criminals now."

Nic's laugh is harsh and humorless. "Welcome to my world, Bambina."

"I'm not like you.”

Nic's eyes meet mine, dark and intense. "You're more like me than you think. You're here, aren't you? Rules change when survival is at stake."

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