Page 49 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part Two
In the early hours of the morning, the forensic teams finally finished collecting evidence and left. The apartment was declared a crime scene and taped up. We packed a bag each and headed to JFK to get on the first flight out of the country. We’d circle back around eventually, but right now, it was safer to fly commercial than on Sampson’s private plane. Too easy to accidentally fall out of the air.
We sat in first class, without Aviva again, and the mood was solemn.
“We have to move up the timeline, Drix. He has to go away sooner rather than later. It's getting too dangerous for you and Otto. For Aviva.”
Hendrick nodded. “Make the call.”
Sampson nodded, and as soon as we were in the air, he put into motion the plan that we’d been working on since Hendrick had crawled into Sampson’s hotel room when he was seventeen, cut and burned, tortured by his father for hours.
We were going to bury that fucker. Then I was going to dance on his goddamn grave.
But first, I needed to hold our girl.
Stromboli Island, here we come.
Chapter25
Hendrick
Ihadn’t slept in what felt like days. We’d caught commercial flights around Europe before landing in Palermo to meet Viva and Evan. The cut on my face stung from drying out during the long flight, probably because it needed stitches, rather than just the little butterfly strips I’d insisted the paramedics put on it. I didn’t want to go to a hospital. I didn’t want to be in New York City anymore.
Otto had almost died because of me. First Viva, now Otto. I was a fucking walking deathtrap.
He shot me a worried look as we strode up the corridor to the gate lounge. I knew he was worried about me, but he really should be worried about himself.
He had one of those silent conversations with Sampson, who moved in front of me.
“What are you doing, Sam?”
“Apparently, we’re having an intervention in the middle of a fucking airport,” he grumbled. He looked back at Otto. “You’re worrying Otto.”
I raised a single brow. “Not you?”
“I’m always worried about you, but I don’t have your emotions on speed dial like he does.”
I turned to face Otto. “I’m fine.”
He gave me the look. The one that saidshut the fuck up and don’t lie to me.“No, you’re not. If you were, I’d be twice as worried about you. But you can’t drag whatever is going on in your head with you to see yourwife.Aviva is going to pick up on that self-flagellation in a second, and you remember what happened the last time you did that shit around her? We nearly destroyed the best person to ever come into our lives.”
He stepped closer, grabbing my face between his hands. “So listen to me real good. None, absolutelynoneof this shit is your fault. None of it. If we didn’t want to be here, we wouldn’t be. I don’t know if you’ve met Aviva, but she isn’t the ‘roll over and let people walk all over her’ type. I am here because I love you and wouldn’t be anywhere else. Even if you tried to make me leave, I’d still be stalking your ass around like Julia Lamorra in the fifth grade.”
I snorted a laugh. I used to catch Julia Lamorra staring at me over the top of the toilet stalls, standing behind me in the cafeteria line, stealing my pencils that I’d chewed on. She was unhinged for an eleven-year-old.
The happiness I felt at his words was tarnished by the fear that seemed to live in my head, churning up anxiety every fucking minute of the day. “I worry something will happen to you,” I whispered.
Otto’s face softened. “I know, Drix. We worry the same thing about you. But I promise you, no one will be happy if you throw up that wall you’re building right now. Let us be here for you, with you. We’ll get past this together—you just have to fight back the demons a little longer, okay?”
I pulled him against me, hugging him close. “I love you, Otto.”
“I know, Drix. I love you too.”
I looked at Sampson over Otto’s shoulder. “You too, asshole.”
Sampson rolled his eyes, making a heart shape with his hands. “We can hug this out later. I have a date with a hot girl in baggage collection.”
“Not if I get there first.” I dodged around him, running up the rest of the ramp, ignoring the angry shouts as we sprinted toward the baggage area. Luckily, we’d done the whole customs thing when our plane had landed in Rome, so we weren’t going to be pulled over by customs cops and frisked. Again. Long story.
Finally, I made it to the baggage claim area, and searched the sea of people for that wild halo of blonde hair. We’d coordinated with Evan to arrive at Palermo together, so we could all catch the ferry to Stromboli as a group.
