“Don’t start your shit tonight.”
“Fine.” Kostya glanced at him. “There’s a price on her head.”
Besian jolted with shock and then growled furiously, “Who the fuck put a price on her?”
“I don’t know yet,” Kostya admitted. “One of my contacts reached out to let me know he had gotten an inquiry about her and her mother. My contact says the interested party decided it wasn’t worth the lead in a bullet to greenlight the mother. Marley, on the other hand, was.”
There was only one hitman in the entire city who would take that contract. One of the anonymous brothers known as the Professionals. They were a nebulous bunch, nearly impossible to contact or hire unless you were someone with contacts like Kostya.
“How much?” Besian pushed the desperation out of his voice and remained as neutral as possible. “I’ll buy it off of him.”
Kostya shook his head. “I already asked. It's not possible.”
“Why not? Everyone has a price!”
“Not this guy,” Kostya replied. “And you know why.”
Besian wiped a hand down his face. Yes, he did know why. There were rules in the underworld, a code that dictated their actions. Spider had stepped outside those rules by allowing his club to be raided and his crew arrested. He had fled instead of facing the consequences. He had lost all the protections of the code, and now, Marley would pay the price.
Unless...
“Do you know where she is?”
Besian glared at Kostya. “Like I would fucking tell you!”
“Really? We’ve been friends and business partners for years, and you think I would sell out your pretty little redhead?”
“Get fucked,” Besian snarled. “You and I both know exactly where your loyalties lie. You’re a Russian. I’m Albanian. Our families are allies now, but that can change in the blink of an eye.”
Kostya didn’t argue. Eventually, he grumbled, “I would at least give you a head start before I came after her.”
“Wow. You’re such a great friend.”
“Don’t be an asshole. I came here to warn you.”
“Thank you,” Besian replied sarcastically. “Really, you’re my hero.”
Kostya shot him the finger. “Get out of here. Go find her. Keep her safe.”
Besian started to walk away but turned back toward his longtime business partner. Earnestly, he said, “Thank you, Kostya.”
Kostya nodded and warned, “Be careful. Until we know who put the price on her, you’ve got to be on alert.”
Besian rolled his shoulders as he hurried to his car. He could practically feel a target on his back. Somewhere, across an ocean and up in the mountains of Albania, Marley was walking around completely unaware that her life was in danger.
As he drove back to his apartment to pack a bag, he couldn’t stop thinking of all the what-ifs. What if she was hurt? What if she was in a hospital? What if she had been robbed and had no money or way to communicate? What if she was lost in the mountains? What if the person who put a hit out on her had a reach long enough to touch her in Albania?
When he reached his apartment, he quickly booked a ticket to Paris and a connecting flight to Tirana. The flight time would be brutal, especially as tired and stressed as he was, but there was no way around it. His last-minute options were severely limited.
Maybe I’ll pass out from exhaustion and finally get some sleep.
He threw some clothing into a carry-on along with his toiletries and other necessities. While he unlocked his safe and removed his passport and some envelopes of cash, he contacted Ben and Jet about holding things together while he was gone. Before he left his apartment, he called Zec and left him a voicemail to let him know that he was on his way home.
“I need you to find Marley,” he said, stepping into the elevator. “She’s near Valbona or maybe Theth. Find her. Don’t approach her. Just keep an eye on her until I get there. She’s got a contract on her head. Don’t let anyone hurt her.”
He ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. As he tossed his bag into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel, he grew more irritated with Marley. What the fuck was she thinking going off on her own like that? Hiking alone? In a strange country? Without anyone to help her? After she just had her heart fixed?
I was wrong.
Admitting that was easier than expected. Marley did need a man like him in her life. She needed someone to look after her, to guide her and protect her. She had such a good heart and saw the very best in everyone. She had no idea how much danger she was in right now, and he was furious with himself for not claiming her when he had the chance.
Determined not to make that mistake again, Besian decided it was time to make some changes in his life. He was going to find Marley and bring her home, but not just as his friend or even his girlfriend.
No.
When he brought Marley home, she would be returning as his wife.
Chapter Five
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you down to the village?” Agnesa stood in the doorway of the whelping room while I nuzzled and loved on the puppies one last time.
“I’m sure.” I gave the puppy I had saved—Lucky—one last snuggle before returning him to the pile of fluffy puppies. “It’s not that far, and your dairy farmer friend said the roads are mostly dry.” I checked my watch. “I have enough time before it gets dark to find a room.”
“All right,” Agnesa said with a reluctant nod. “You have my information? You’ll call me when you get to back to your hostel in Shkodër?”
“Yes and yes.” I grabbed my backpack and slipped my arms through the straps. Buckling the harness across my chest, I said, “Thank you for packing my dinner. I’ll mail back the thermos.”
She waved her hand. “Keep it. Think of it as a souvenir.”
“I will.”
“You know how to get to the ferry tomorrow morning?”
“Yes.”
“And you know where to find the bus to Shkodër?”
“Yes.” Amused by her mothering, I asked, “Do you want to come with me to make sure?”
“Don’t tempt me! It’s been a while since I’ve left my mountain.”
“You’re always welcome in Houston.”
“And you’re always welcome here,” she said, engulfing me in a warm hug. “I enjoyed your company very much, Marley.”
“Same,” I said, hugging her right back. “Thank you for being so kind and welcoming me into your home.”
“Thank you for not suing me over that goose bite,” she teased. “Come on.” She gestured to the door. “You better get moving.”
I was halfway down the lane when I glanced back to find Agnesa watching from her garden. She waved, and I waved back one last time before hitching my backpack up a little higher and trudging toward the red gate. Saddened by the end of my visit to her farm, I closed the red gate behind me and started down the winding, narrow path back to the café.
When I reached the café, I stopped for some water and waved at the old man who had given me directions. He seemed surprised to see me again and nodded at me before returning to the hikers seated at the tables. There was a truck parked nearby, a dusty black Mercedes X-Class, and the grandson was in the bed of it, moving boxes toward the tailgate.