Page 33 of Redemption
“I’m French and the son of a merchant marine, Mount. I take parley seriously. I wouldn’t endanger my nephew’s life to kill you. I have no reason to want you dead. I like you perfectly well alive.”
His words wash over me as I climb the rungs and swing a leg over the stern with my senses and instincts on high alert.
First, I scan the boat. “Are you alone?” I see no signs of life, but I can’t be sure about what’s down below.
“Of course. I would not double-cross you. I told you, I value the life of my nephew much more than you do.”
My gaze travels over every inch of the boat that I see. “No one below?”
“No. I give you my word of honor. Would you like to see for yourself?”
My gaze locks on Leo. A lion’s mane of golden hair, tanned skin, blue eyes, like his nephew. The collar of his white shirt is unbuttoned beneath his open navy pin-striped suit jacket with a white-and-gold pocket square. The gold chain of his pocket watch is clipped on his vest.
“Do I need to go see for myself?” I ask.
“No. I have no doubt that if I had henchmen below and they killed you, I’d receive my nephew back in pieces. Am I right?”
My chest rises and falls with a sharp laugh. “I doubt it’d even be that pretty. In shreds, more likely.”
Leo pales beneath his tan. “I believe you. I came alone. I brought nothing with me but the information that I promised you.”
A barge blows its horn as it comes up behind us, and I have to stop myself from drawing my pistol.
“And you didn’t tell anyone where you’d be or who you’d be with?”
“Not even my father. He thinks Remy is with his girlfriend.”
“Ah, yes, the young Lily. He makes for a shitty assassin, Marchand. Truly, the worst I’ve ever seen.”
Leo’s golden mane tumbles as he shakes his head. “He’s not an assassin. He’s a tight end on the football team. He’s much better at that.”
“Then, he should stick to football and leave the suppressed gunfire in broad daylight to the gangsters, like me and his uncle.”
“I prefer my suppressed gunfire in the moonlight to daylight,” Leo says, attempting a grin that looks forced.
“Enough small talk. Tell me why it happened, Marchand. Tell me everything.”
“Come. Let us go inside. It’s best if we’re not seen together.”
I point to his suit. “That’s your fault. No one would recognize me in this.” I gesture to my workingman’s pants and stained shirt.
“Your wardrobe is your choice. Mine is a statement.”
“Then, lead the way,” I tell him.
“Of course. I have no fear of turning my back on you, Mount. You have no reason to kill me either. Consider it a sign of my trust.”
“Consider it whatever you want, Marchand. I came for answers.”
My hand hovers over the butt of one of my pistols as I follow him into the covered helm area. There’s no one rushing up from below to kill me, so I take that as a sign of his trust as well.
Leo eases a hip onto the captain’s chair and lifts his chin. “Feel free to sit.”
“I don’t need to sit. This shouldn’t take long, I assume.”
“No. The information I have is devastating, but it won’t take long to deliver. I’ll start with what my nephew overheard.” He jams a hand into his hair. “I still can’t believe he tried to kill you.”
“Believe it.”
