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Almost as if he, too, tastes my fear, he pulls back and looks at me. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I’ve got you. We’ve got this.” He kisses me again, and I taste those words. He has me. We’ve got this.
He pulls back and strokes my damp bottom lip, before turning me to face forward again.
“I’ve got you, too,” I promise softly, but the train is screeching to a halt, announcements being made again, and I know he can’t hear me. I decide I’ll tell him later when we’re safe and alone. And we will be soon. Smith and his team will help us. This is not going to go wrong unless, of course, whoever Aaron is worried is following us, catches up to us. That idea keeps me alert.
We exit the train, and by the time we head to 88th, I’m in a hat, glasses, and a scarf, and Aaron is wearing a baseball hat and scarf. We approach the pizzeria from the opposite side of the street and take a spot inside a coffee shop to watch the pizzeria. We’re by a window in the corner, waiting for Smith or whoever else might appear. My back is to the door, my gaze on the pizza joint, that is until I feel Aaron’s eyes lift sharply to the door. He grabs my hand. “Don’t turn,” he orders.
Chapter twenty
Ashley
“He’s here?” I question in a low whisper, the smell of coffee and baked goods lifting in the air, while fear settles in my belly. In hindsight, I’m not sure how good of an idea it was to bring Smith to Aaron when Aaron hates him.
“Yes,” Aaron says, “he’s here. I want to watch him for a few minutes.”
“He won’t give you anything to question,” I say. “He’s a good man. I can’t say that enough. Even if he was going to betray you, he wouldn’t make it obvious.”
“There are tells,” Aaron says. “Things I’ll teach you to read. Things you need to know to survive.”
“What is he doing?”
“Looking around. Looking for you.” But Aaron doesn’t look at me. He watches Smith. “Go talk to him,” he finally says. “He’s probably wearing a wire. He’ll lie and say he’s not if you ask him. Assume he is. Always assume the person you’re dealing with is wired. In other words, don’t tell him who I am.”
“Then what do I say?”
“Tell him you want him to meet a friend.”
“But he’ll still be wired. What good will that do?”
“Just do it, baby.”
I inhale and let out my breath before standing up. I turn, and right as I do, Smith steps in front of me. He’s found us and now he’s assessing me and me him. He’s tall, with sandy brown hair and warm brown eyes, just the way I remember him. Today, he’s in a T-shirt and jeans with a leather jacket that I’m sure hides a gun. “Hi, stranger,” I say. “Thanks for coming.”
“Who’s the man?”
“Someone who needs your help. I need your help. I told him we could trust you, which is why I need you to take off the wire I know you’re wearing.”
His eyes narrow. “Tell me you’re not in trouble.”
“I’ve been in trouble. That’s how we met. He’s not my problem. Please, Smith. Pull the wire and show him you did it. Then we’ll tell you everything.”
“Are you afraid for your safety?”
“I’m afraid for both of our safety. That’s why we came to you. Please do this for me.”
He inhales and looks skyward before he yanks out the earpiece he’s wearing. “That’s all I’m wearing. Let’s sit down.”
I nod, and the minute I turn, Aaron is on his feet, taking my hand and pulling me around to his side of the table. He and Smith step to the table, facing each other. “Who are you?” Smith demands, “and why should I trust you?”
“You know who I am, and I stayed away until I got word that they were trying to kill her to get to me. I saved her. And now, I’ve lost the only person outside of her I trusted in the process.”
“Who is they? Who is trying to kill her, if not you?”
“Let’s sit,” Aaron says.
“Yes, please,” I plead. “Let’s sit.”
The two men stare at each other several more beats and then as if they’d agreed when I see no signs that they did so, they sit. Then I sit. “He’s telling the truth,” I say. “He was setup and then his mentor tried to kill me. If Aaron hadn’t come for me—I’d be dead.”
