Page 130 of When She Falls (The Fallen)
At last, Orrin sighs. He grabs a pen and starts writing a string of numbers on a pink Post-it note. “Fine. I want a hundred grand wired to this account in the next forty-eight hours. We use an airfield about an hour out of the city. There’s a cargo plane leaving in two hours.”
I take the Post-it from him and put it in my pocket. “You can get us on it?”
“It won’t be a comfy ride.”
“Where is it flying?”
“Crete. I have a house there where you could stay. That’ll be another ten grand.A week.And I’ll have to tell Kal about this eventually. Maybe it’ll slip my mind when he and I talk in a week, but after that, I have to tell him, or I’ll be in deep shit. So you’ll have some time before he knows where to find you.”
Which means so will Dem if he thinks to ask. Kal won’t go running to Dem on his own with this information—we have enough of a friendship between us for him to keep his mouth shut for as long as he can—but it’s not a risk I can take.
“Deal. We’ll move somewhere else as soon as Gemma’s doing better.”
Orrin points his thumb toward the door. “You sure your precious cargo out there will go along with the plan?”
Gemma’s going to take some convincing, but I’m getting her out of here. She may not have canceled her engagement yet, but she will. When we’re far away from here, I’ll make her understand that her place is with me.
That girl ismine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“She took two oxycontin for the pain. I’m hoping it will make her more agreeable to what I’m about to tell her.”
Orrin laughs dryly. “And what happens once those wear off?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Your funeral.” He picks up his phone. “I need to call the pilot and tell him to wait for you. You should go talk to her now.”
I stand up. “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”
He waves me off, and I leave the office, praying Gemma’s groggy enough to maybe have taken a nap, but nothing’s ever that easy. She’s holding her tea mug in her palms, taking tentative sips.
“Where’s Orrin?” she asks when she sees me.
“He had to make a call.”
My palms are clammy as I pull out the chair beside Gemma and sit down. She’s changed into a white T-shirt that says Poet’s Café in a cursive green font and a pair of black slacks that are at least two sizes too big for her. At least the shoes seem to fit.
“Cute,” I say, bumping her knee.
Her lips twitch, but her eyes stay sad.Cazzo.I can’t stand seeing her like this. I wish there were a way for me to absorb all her pain so that I could free her from the burden. I’ve done enough things in my life to deserve that kind of punishment. She hasn’t.
“What now?” she asks in a soft voice.
Now, I fight for what I want.
“Your father was arrested after we left.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“The Feds got him. Rafaele will probably take over as don in the interim until he manages to get your father out.”
Color leeches out of her face. “Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s happening.” She swallows. “I think we need to go back,” she says quietly, and I can sense her despair.
She doesn’t want to do it. She just needs someone to tell her that she doesn’t have to.
I reach for her hand. “We’re not going back. We’re leaving New York.”
She blinks at me. “We can’t.”
