Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Whipping around my fist balled, there stands Mama.
“Let her go,” she says, shaking her head. “She’s upset, but she’ll come around. Let her go see Leonardo. It will help. You have some unrest in Chicago you should handle.”
She hands me a tablet, the screen bright in the fading winter light as the storm comes in off the horizon. And as soon as I see what’s on the screen, I know she’s right. I have to deal with this. We’ve got some rogue detectives trying to make a name for themselves. Forgetting who it is that lines their wallets.
Trouble is, all I want to do is go after Carina, explain everything and bring her back.
But I defer to Mama’s wisdom. I need to give her space. I need to let her talk it out with Leonardo. He’ll have my back.
At least, I hope so.
CHAPTER 13
Gennero
Fuck giving her space. I didn’t make it ten minutes before I trudged out into the snow to track down her dramatic ass.
Business can wait. Fucking Chicago rivalries and police payoffs going south are flaring up and as usual, it falls on me to settle their immature bullshit. Only problem is, I don’t give a ripe fuck about any of it.
Every-fucking-thing else can fucking wait.
Without Carina next to me, there’s no point in anything else.
It’s Christmas fucking eve. I wanted to sit by the fire, watch her and Lucy exchange their traditional gag gifts and drink some bourbon, then take my gift to my room and rail into her until the sun comes up.
“Carina?” I call out into the cold emptiness of the reindeer barn. She wasn’t in the pasture and her footsteps lead here and I’m already about to lose it knowing she’s out here without me. “Carina, enough. I have things to tell you, but you hiding is not going to get you the result you want. Or, maybe it is because your ass is going to be wearing my hand print if you don’t come out, now.”
Silence.
Nothing.
The weathered timber of the barn stares back at me, illuminated by the strung lights along the high ceiling, that pick out carved snowflakes and trees decorating the stables. One of the reindeer, Rafael judging by the low snort, kicks against his stall wall, then it’s silence again.
I stomp down the center aisle, dropping a little more straw into a couple of the reindeer pens, but when I get to Leonardo’s stall, it’s empty. The metal latch hangs broken by a single screw, and hoofprints lead away to the other end of the barn.
Shit.
It’s not the first time he’s escaped, but with the storm coming in, if she went to get him, that could not end well.
My heart thunders as I run back the way I came, out into the snow-covered pasture and over to the sleigh shed. If the blizzard comes in while I’m out there looking for her, a Land Rover isn’t going to cut it.
I need the Frost Titan.
The doors to the shed swing open, revealing a vast expanse of red metal. It’s an Aerosani, a propeller-driven sledge invented by the Soviets back in the early twentieth century.
However, mine is larger than anything the manufacturer had ever built.
It’s a mix between a speedboat and a car, mounted on thirty-foot skis, with a cockpit big enough to seat six with a cargo area, and the Frost Titan is strong enough to tow a tank if needed.
As the sky goes from blue-gray to the color of coal, I turn the key and the engine fires to life without a stutter.
The propeller whirs, and a second later, I’m tearing out into the snow, headlamps lit, following a light trail of reindeer prints leading out into the wilderness.
“I’m coming, baby. Just be okay. God, please, let her be okay.”
I follow the barely there reindeer trail through the sparse woodland at the edge of the property, over vast expanses of white beneath the dark sky. Mountains watch, impassive, as I speed by, the roar of the engine and scent of gasoline my only companions.
Oh, and my guilt. There’s that, but if I have my way, that motherfucker is moving on as well.
She’s out here. I feel it, and I’m going to get her back. I have to. She’s my miracle. My sun. My breath. I vow from this moment on, I’ll be what she needs. I’ll be a better man. I’ll go straight.
I’ll open a fucking hardware store and come home every night and complain about the price of lumber, how no one wants to work anymore and how taxes are killing me.
I’ve never paid taxes, but if I did, it would kill me.
My property ends, but the trail doesn’t, and I crash through the poorly maintained fence without a second thought as I drive the Frost Titan right onto Mort McAllister’s land. It’s no wonder our reindeer end up on his land. That fence wouldn’t stop them, not even close. Fucking asshole.