Page 61 of Betraying Family Vows
But before I can move, Dimitri ducks behind another car, becoming invisible. The drunk men pass by, oblivious, climbing into a truck several spaces away. A few seconds later, the engine starts and they're gone.
Dimitri pops back up beside a different car—a small, dark blue one. He glances toward me and waves me over.
I take a breath and tuck the gun into my waistband like I've seen in movies, and get out of the SUV. I walk toward him, trying to look casual, as if my heart isn't about to burst from my chest.
"Come on," Dimitri says. "Why are you walking so slow?"
"I don't know," I shrug. "Acting casual. Never stolen a car before."
"Well, let me show you," he says and pulls some kind of slim stick from his bag. He slides it down between the window and frame, then pulls up.
He opens the door and slides into the driver's seat. I hurry around to the passenger side, glancing over my shoulder. No one's watching. The parking lot remains empty.
Through the window, I see Dimitri hunched under the steering wheel. He's pulled off a panel, exposing a tangle of wires. He works as if he's done this dozens of times. This isn't his first stolen car. Probably not even his tenth.
I think about my life before all this. How I'd never even considered jaywalking. Now I'm standing lookout while a man I'm attracted to for all the wrong reasons tries to hotwire a car.
And not just any ordinary man, but a complex, flawed, probably a little fucked-up guy that I just had sex with against an ancient ruin in between him killing a bunch of people.
I should feel ashamed of what I've become. But all I feel is power. Control. Like I finally belong somewhere, even if it's in hell.
Come to think of it, who isn't complex, flawed, and a little fucked up?
Suddenly, there's a spark and the engine comes to life, snapping me out of my thoughts. Dimitri sits up, adjusting something under the dash before looking at me through the window.
"Get in," he says, his voice urgent.
I don't hesitate. I pull the door open and climb into the passenger seat. The car smells faintly of cigarettes and terrible pine air freshener.
Dimitri backs out smoothly and guides the car out of the parking lot. Once we're back on the main road, he punches it, putting distance between us and the bar.
"No one suspected anything," I say—more statement than question.
"They won't miss the car until morning," he confirms. "By then, we'll be in Piraeus. We'll leave it so police can find it and get it back to whoever owns it."
I nod, watching his profile in the dashboard light. The definition of his jaw. The intensity in his eyes as he scans the road ahead.
The highway stretches out before us, dark and endless. Signs flash by, each one bringing us closer to Athens, to Piraeus, to whatever waits for us there.
My mind won't stop spinning. What will his brothers say? Should I be more afraid? Should I be panicking, thinking of ways to escape?
I picture his brothers, Ares with his cold eyes, Theo with that terrifying calm, and wonder if they'll shoot me on sight.
I let out a sigh. Instead of all this, I just feel this strange, fierce calm.
Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
And the crazy part?
I'm not afraid to go with him.
Not anymore.
As a matter of fact, I don't think I ever want to leave his side again.
Because somehow, in all this blood and chaos, he feels like the only home I've ever had.
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