The woman’s manic eyes and haunting words stayed with me long after we left that fiery scene. Maybe I was too cocky. I thought we were safe. Being a part of the Bullets gave me a false sense of security. Sure, the Moretti name had many enemies, but it was rare one of them was brave enough to actually do anything. Ever since I left Santobello, I went about my day convinced I was untouchable because of my association with the Bullets.
Today taught me otherwise.
I thought I had a good handle on the situation. I thought I would easily put Grace on a plane headed for home where she would safely wait for word from me. But I was wrong. We weren’t safe. Even though I wished we had more time to investigate, I knew that Grace and I couldn’t stay in one place for too long. Despite her injuries, we needed to move.
Even though it wasn’t ideal, I didn't care that we were crammed into the back of a gigantic plane flying over the Pacific or that we had to pay a ridiculous amount of money for these shitty seats. I didn't even care that there was a screaming two-year-old three rows in front of us that kept throwing shit my way. No, I was too thankful that Grace and I were alive to be pissed off about trivial things. She was asleep in the seat next to me, and her skin smelled like char and smoke. Her frizzy red hair framed her scratched face. She breathed softly next to me, and I was enamored with the sight of her rising and falling chest. Alive. She was alive. We were okay.
I made an executive decision the moment that private jet exploded, knocking us onto the concrete. There was no way in hell we'd be going back to the States. We had to go ghost. Grace whimpered in her sleep, and I adjusted the thin airplane blanket around her shoulders. The idea that something could've happened to her on my watch was clipping at my emotions. It all happened so fast, and yet the moment seemed to move in slow motion. We almost died. She almost died.
Hot fire and groaning metal still rang in my ears. Her body looked so frail when it slammed against the hard concrete. I had her blood on my dress shirt.
It was then I realized that Grace was more than an obligation. Grace had wormed her way into my heart and set up camp in my soul. She was a friend. A confidant. Someone I shared my loneliness with. And I would burn the world down before letting our enemies get to us—even if I had no idea who or what our enemies were.
The Ringleaders send their regards…
What did that even mean? The woman that blew up our plane sounded insane. I had my theories, of course. Phoenix was involved with some crazy ass group. When we worked together for the vigilantes, we came across some shady characters, but nothing like this. I briefly wondered if the Ringleaders were targeting Gavriel, but he had never heard of them before. One of the first things you learn when working for the mob is that you should always be aware of your enemies. Keep them closer than close.
How could we face a faceless enemy? Who were the Ringleaders?
"Alessandro?" Grace whispered while blinking. I could barely hear her over the flushing of the toilets behind us and the roar of the engines.
"You okay?" I asked while turning in my seat to face her. The skin on her palms was scratched and an angry shade of red.
"I'm just sore. How much longer?" she croaked while licking her dry lips. I grabbed a water bottle and handed it to her. She unscrewed the cap and took a long gulp. And then another.
I eyed my watch. "About six more hours.” She finished the rest of the water, and I handed her another. It was easy to get dehydrated on these long flights. She also needed to walk around soon. I already dragged her here with bruises and cuts littering her soft skin, I didn’t want to worry about blood clots, too.
“Fuck. This is the longest flight ever,” she groaned while shifting in her seat. She leaned against my shoulder and let out a huff of air. The clothes we found at a gift shop were swallowing her tiny frame, and I once again let my mind become consumed with anxiety. I worried that I should have taken her to a hospital.
There was some small debris in her arm. I managed to pull it out with tweezers on the ride to the airport. Thank fuck my suitcase was still in the SUV when the plane exploded, and I still had cash. I grabbed our fake passports and booked us on the first flight to Sydney. It was probably stupid to chase after Nix after what had happened, but I hoped they thought we were dead. The sooner we found out what we were up against, the better off we were at navigating their threats. I called Gavriel from a street phone to let him know that we were alive and going into hiding. He yelled at me and asked questions about the attacker. I just hoped he didn’t skin me alive once we were back in the States. Though Grace had never admitted this out loud, she was convinced her brother thought of her as an obligation and didn’t truly care. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Gavriel Moretti loved his sister, he just didn’t know how to express it outside of violence and overprotection.
“Do you need more pain medicine?” I asked her. I knew she was bruised to hell. My back got burned slightly, but she was the one shoved to the ground like a rag doll.
“No. I’m fine. I don’t wanna feel
