Page 121 of Past Due

Chapter Thirty

Mom: Marley? Please hurry!

We’re almost there.

Just hang on.

Mom: I love you, Marley.

I love you, too, Mom.

Fidgeting in the passenger seat, I wrung my hands as Besian barreled down I-10 toward San Antonio. We had been on the road for nearly three hours, and I had been a nervous wreck the entire time. Besian kept reaching over to take my hand, soothing my nerves with his tender touch.

Even though we had worked through that ugly mess this morning, I could see how much guilt he still felt. A few hours removed from the shock of Sinnamon walking in with his wedding ring and shirt, I felt bad about my reaction. Choosing to immediately start packing was wrong, and it had scared him terribly.

My phone chirped, and I swiped to open the message from my mom. “She’s flipping out, B.”

“Of course, she is,” he replied matter-of-factly. “She’s a suspect in a murder. She’s at the middle of an international crypto scam. Her husband is in federal custody. She committed a felony stealing your money. If she wasn’t flipping out, I would be worried that she had lost her goddamn mind.”

I frowned at him. “Wow.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Maybe a little less truth, especially when we get to the RV park where she’s hiding,” I suggested.

“Fine,” he answered glumly. Gesturing to a green highway sign ahead, he asked, “Is that the exit?”

I checked the navigation app. “Yes. Exit 582. Kirby.”

“Have you ever been here?”

“No. It’s probably one of Spider’s boltholes.” I texted my mother to let her know we were only minutes away. “I used to have them all memorized, but he swapped a lot of them out after the cartel thing.”

“The cartel thing,” Besian repeated with a snort. “That’s the nicest way I’ve ever heard someone describe a bloody coup.”

I grimaced. “I try not to think about it that much.”

“I know,” he said gently and squeezed my hand. “When we get back, we need to talk about my secret foxholes and what you should do if something happens to me.”

“Call Zec?” I guessed.

“Yes, and if he doesn’t answer, you call Luka. But you run first,” he said, his expression serious.

“I know.” I had heard a similar set of instructions from Spider a hundred times. Vividly remembering the stress of growing up that way, I said, “I don’t want our kids to feel like this, B.”

“I don’t either,” he admitted.

“So, what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to look at the way Nikolai has set up his life to insulate his family and make a plan to do the same.” He nodded as if seeing the plan come into place. “I’m going to step back from the clubs,” he added, surprising me. “I don’t have to be so involved in them anymore. I can hire a managing team to do the day-to-day work.”

“Are you sure? You’ve worked so hard to build your businesses.”

“I have, and I think I’ve earned the right to step back and let others do the hard work. I don’t want to come home at four in the morning for the rest of my life,” he confessed. “I want to be present. I want to be a better husband and a good father. I don’t want work following me home.”

His decision soothed my still frayed nerves from this morning’s debacle. “I appreciate that so much, B.”

“It’s the right decision for us.” He glanced at me and smiled. “For our family.”

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