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“You’re not so bad yourself.” I give her a lazy grin, and she reaches out to push my bangs, wet with sweat and everything else, back from my forehead in a tender move that makes me catch my breath.
She slings an arm over me and we both drift for a while, boneless and sated.
There’s a strange sort of peace in this liminal space between waking and dreaming. A tranquil pocket of existence where I don’t have to think about the heavy burdens weighing on both of us.
About how this forbidden moment of connection came with an impossibly high price.
But for now, in this quiet, secret place, I can simply be.
Be with her.
And then we both hear it: the buzz of a text on her silenced phone. She stays there another moment until the second insistent buzz comes through, and then, with a groan, she rolls over and rises to her feet, walking over to her jacket, fishing out her phone.
A few seconds later, she says, “I have to go.”
“What? Why?” I hate myself for sounding the way I do. Whiny. Like some jealous lover…
But Lyssa’s next words make me forget all that.
“Johnny the Gentleman finally came through on that helicopter path,” she says. “He wants to meet. Tonight.”
CHAPTER 13
Lyssa
Finally, Johnny de Luca has made himself useful. Though I suspect the hold-up on the intel I requested was probably not just the difficulty of finding it, but making sure that the Bianchi Boss was also happy for me to receive it. I meet him at his favorite diner, the bell above the door announcing my arrival.
Johnny the Gentleman is already seated at his usual booth, a slice of pie in front of him. He looks up, his eyes crinkling in a smile, and stands with a polite little bow as I join him, living up to his nickname.
“Lyssa. How lovely to see you. I was just about to dig into this delectable cherry pie. Care to join me in a slice?”
I slide into the booth, shaking my head. “I’m not here for pie. I’m here for business.”
He chuckles, raising a finger. “Why not both?” Within moments, a waitress appears, setting down a slice of pie in front of me. The aroma of warm cherries and buttery crust wafts up, making my mouth water despite myself.
“Humor an old man, will you? Trust me, this pie is worth the indulgence.”
I take a bite, the tart sweetness of the cherries bursting on my tongue. “Alright. The pie’s delicious. I’ll give you that.”
“Isn’t it? It’s why I bought this place.”
I glance around instinctively. He bought this place? So that’s why he’s always here—and why it’s always open when he needs it to be. “Congratulations on your new career in the food service industry,” I say drily. “But let’s get down to why I’m really here.”
Johnny leans back, his expression turning serious at last. “Of course. I’ve got that information you requested about an unregistered helicopter flight. My contacts have been digging, and they’ve narrowed it down to a specific neighborhood—your bird came to roost in an old industrial complex. Looks like this Grandmother of yours might using it as her base of operations.”
“She’s not my Grandmother,” I tell him shortly. “That’s just her—” I break off, scanning the map that he’s slid over to me.
“Paper only,” he says. “I prefer not to deal in traceable electronics where possible.”
I nod. “This gives me a place to look. Thanks.” I hesitate for a moment, but then I follow my gut. “Listen, there’s something I need to show you.”
I pull out the list Scarlett wrote out from the shredded documents. I smooth it out on the table, turning it so Johnny can read the names.
“I think Grandmother is planning something big. Either a mass hit or she’s got assassins in place watching each of these people. Hadria’s name is on here, and so is Juno Bianchi’s.”
Johnny’s brow furrows as he scans the list, his finger stopping on Juno’s name. “This is troubling. And I won’t allow Juno to come to Chicago until Grandmother is dealt with. It’s too risky.”
“I agree. But the problem isn’t just Chicago, Johnny. Grandmother seems to have a wider reach than I realized.”
