Page 10 of Owned By Shadows

His eyes bug out, and it would be funny if the situation weren’t so serious. “What the fuck?”

“You have to let me go, Bubby. Please,” I beg, glancing behind him while my thoughts race to come up with a way to get down to my Uber, which will pull up at any moment.

He chews his lip, shifting from foot to foot as he continues to block my path. “And you trust whatever source gave you the information you have?”

I blink. If he’d asked me that just yesterday, I’d say no fucking way, but everything has changed now. “Absolutely.”

He takes a breath through his nostrils, then looks upward as he lets it huff out of his mouth. “Fuck, they’re gonna kill me for this. Come on, let’s go.”

I stall, my foot lifted. “You’re coming with me?”

He raises a single brow that reminds me so much of Roman that my stomach clenches. “Well, I’m not about to let you go alone now. They’d kill me more if I did that. We’ll have to swing past mine to grab my passport, but it’ll only take a minute.”

“Okay.” I nod and he grabs my bag from me, then shuts the door of the flat with a resounding thud. My heart beats hard inside my chest as I follow him down a flight of stairs and through some doors to the floor below ours.

We stop outside a dark blue door, a small pane of wired glass showing a dark interior. “Wait here,” he tells me, placing my bag by my feet, and it’s my turn to raise my brows.

“Bossy for a fourteen-year-old, aren’t you?” I comment, and he gives me a grin as he opens the door.

“Fifteen now. My birthday was a few weeks back,” he tells me, a look of sympathy in his eyes as he darts inside.

He means when I was locked away, either with Sergi or at Serene Haven. I hope the guys gave him a party and presents. He deserves that at least. He’s back in less than two minutes, with a duffle similar to mine in his hand. Closing the door, he grabs my bag, then grasps my hand with his free one and tugs me towards the exit.

It’s such a sweet gesture, especially considering he could hardly look at me when we first met. It’s also nice, holding the hand of someone I very much would like to be friends with, despite the age difference between us. He’s old beyond his years, a fact that makes my heart hurt as we make our way down the rest of the stairs and off the estate.

There’s the Uber car waiting next to the pavement, and I confirm my name as Bubby helps me get into the back, jogging around the other side and getting in next to me, both our bags still in his hand.

“Off anywhere nice?” the cabbie asks as he pulls away, and I’m startled from looking out my window at the estate, expecting Hunt or Rowan to come running after us. But they don’t. All is quiet as we drive away.

“Um, visiting family in Russia,” I tell him vaguely, chewing my lip again as I think of what lies ahead.

“Did you check flight times?” Bubby asks quietly, and I switch my focus to him.

“Yeah, there’s one to St. Petersburg at ten thirty, which we should be able to make. It’s only six now,” I reply, my leg bouncing as we crawl through the London traffic. “It’s cutting it fine time-wise, especially as we still have to buy tickets, but if we miss that one, there’s another at midnight.”

I’m hoping we don’t miss it, as Hunt and Rowan will no doubt quickly discover my whereabouts, and I’m not ready for them to catch me. Just before we take off, I’ll message thembecause I don’t want them to worry. I shift in my seat, imagining them discovering my absence before I’ve managed to text them.

To reach the airport takes a little over an hour, so we rush to the ticket desk. It’s easier than I thought to purchase the tickets, and then we make our way to security, not checking our bags. It’s just after eight when we’re through and airside, and all we can do now is wait.

“Are you hungry?” I ask Bubby, my stomach grumbling, reminding me I’ve not eaten dinner because Hunt stormed out before he finished making anything.

“I could eat,” he answers in a noncommittal tone while shrugging his broad shoulders in true teenage fashion. I laugh, earning an eye roll.

We find a restaurant that’s got space, and once we’re seated and with drinks in front of us, Bubby stares at me, his mouth twitching. “Out with it.”

“Why do you think he’s alive?” he questions quietly, and I see the hope that is burning inside me reflected in his eyes. Bubby and Roman were close, and I know he wants to believe he’s not gone just as much as I do.

“Well, for starters, they never gave us his body,” I reply, my voice low. This is not a conversation that needs to be overheard.

“That’s not enough to go on,” he interrupts, and I give him a mock glare. “Sorry. Continue.”

I pause as our server brings us our food. Both of us went for steak and chips, and I grab one stick of deep fried potato goodness, dipping it in the mayo on my plate before shoving it in my mouth.

“And I think Nik messaged me co-ordinates to a secret place that only he and I know about,” I add, picking up my knife and fork while Bubby freezes with an enormous slice of steak halfway to his mouth.

“So the man that shot him maybe sent you a message about a place you’ve never been to but he told you about years ago?” he asks, his tone incredulous and his brows hidden underneath his mop of dark hair that’s covered by his hood.

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad,” I grumble, looking down at my plate before taking a bite of steak, the flavour bursting on my tongue. I swallow and then look at Bubby. “When we were younger, he made me memorise theses co-ordinates, telling me they were for a safe place. Somewhere we might need one day and that I was to tell no one else about it.” I pause, letting that sink in while I take a sip of my drink. “And today, an unknown number sent those exact co-ordinates to me.”

---