Page 84 of SINS & Riley
Shit.
I don’t wait for him to notice me. My voice is a growl. “Drive.”
The driver obeys, tires spitting gravel as we pull away from the church.
We’ve barely cleared the drive when unease sinks in, heavy and cold.
Did he see me?
One glimpse could destroy it all: me, my operation, the women and children I save. Or worse, it would shove him and every woman he’s rescued straight into the line of fire.
Fuck.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Dominic.
Just what I need. Another crisis.
He never calls unless something’s bleeding, burning, or blowing up. And since he’s babysitting my Pom, it could damn well be all three.
I answer. “Problem?”
“You could say that.” His voice is steady, but the edges fray with something I don’t like. Hesitation.
Then a beat of silence. Too long.
A sharp pinch lodges in my chest. “Keeping a homicidal maniac in suspense is a bad look. Just ask Emilio.”
“It’s Riley,” Dominic says. My pulse pumps harder. “She’s fine. But… I can’t talk now. Little ears and all.”
I picture Misha and Katya hanging on his every word—like the time they asked their babushka what a concrete shoe was.
Misha actually wanted to try one on.
Dominic lowers his voice. “You’ll want to see her when you get back.”
Tell me something I don’t know. Every time I walk through the door, I want to see her.
Most of my life, I’ve been the calm one. Cold. Collected. Kill first, ask later.
But with her? She’s the crack in my armor. My compulsion. My obsession.
My voice stays flat. “On my way now.”
I end the call and sink back into the seat, my mind already racing a mile ahead.
Another fire.
Why is it with Pom, there’s always another fire?
26
ZVER
By the time I reach the house, Dominic’s already waiting. Scrapes streak his brow, dirt and blood mixed with sweat.
Alarm bells ring in the back of my head. Something happened. And Pom was at the center of it.
