Not Looking for Love: Episode 7 (A New Adult Contemporary Romance Novel) (9 page)

Once I'm finally done unpacking I take a deep breath and check my emails. I haven't done so since I left Italy, and sure enough there are a few from my dad, and even a long, hurt one from Leo. Maybe I should’ve explained things to him, but he really has no cause calling me cold and calculating because I didn't. He has no cause to call me anything. We're barely friends, little more than colleagues, even if he had different ideas. I write back something to that effect, but delete it all, and opt for a simple sorry. I have all I wanted now, and maybe I did lead him on just a little.
 

Next, I send an email to the administrators of the summer school, explain that I had to leave so suddenly due to family problems. The warmth that floods my belly when I write "family" meaning Scott takes me off guard, but it's a good feeling, one I don't want to ever chase away.

The email to my dad is hardest to write. He's still in Syria and I'm beyond glad I didn't contact him when I first came back to New York, because that would make all this that much harder to write. But I do tell him that I'm back together with Scott, and he shouldn't worry, because this is something I need to see through to the end. I'm an adult, I can make my own choices. I just hope he'll see it that way too.

I spend the rest of the day dozing on the couch, flipping through the TV channels, but unable to really focus on anything. By sunset, I start getting a little worried, though Scott said he might be late, and it's far too early to start panicking. I'm hungry though and he has no food in the apartment, which is so typical.

The door finally opens at just after eight. And at first glance Scott looks about ten years older, but then he smiles at me and all that fades. I swear his eyes hold all the colors of the sky at sunset. I'm in his arms before I even realize I got up off the couch.

He holds me tightly and his kiss is soft, so full of promises. But he's tense and it transfers to me.

"I'm not going to ask about your day," I mutter, inwardly cringing at the tinge of accusation in my voice. I didn't mean it that way. I have no idea why I even said it.
 

"Better not," he says and takes my hand, leads me to the couch.

I sit on his lap, wrap my arms around his neck. "You know what I learned in these last few months?"
 

He looks at me and I see a storm brewing in his eyes. But it's one of those hard and heavy ones, with no real thunder behind it.
 

I smile and run my hand down his cheek, the hard stubble sending a jolt of electricity right through my core. "I learned that it's best to just enjoy the moment while it lasts. Regret will come either way."

His lip curls up, but I think for once I beat him to uttering a hard, caustic truth. And he knows it too, I can see it in the way his eyes soften, turn back to a calm sea at sunset, and the love and desire pouring out are all for me.

"Yeah, that's all well and good—"

I cut him off with a kiss. We don't really need any more wisdom and the warmth rising in my belly, the love I feel cracking in the room all around us is the only truth we require.

"Let's get some dinner," I mutter, once I'm finally able to pull away from the kiss.
 

He agrees readily, and then we're on the sidewalk. His arm is around my shoulders, and I'm snuggled really close, holding onto his waist. The warm wind is filling me with hope for the future, and I’m beyond certain now that this is all the truth I'll ever need.

Gail fell asleep almost as soon as we returned home from dinner last night, but despite her soft skin pressed against me, her legs entwined with mine I couldn't follow suit. For the first two hours, I also didn't dare move, because she's fucking right, we should be making the most out of this, here and now. Every fucking minute of it. So why can't I?
 

So I spent the rest of the night pacing the dark apartment, staring out the windows. I don't deserve for Gail to love me and want to be with me despite all the bad things I've done. Like turning away when I saw a man tortured, destroying evidence, stealing cars, having a brother who wants to hurt her, repeatedly leaving her with almost no explanation, lying to her. I don't deserve it, but I do want her love. No, I need it. And I can make it all up to her. Or, at least, I will spend the rest of my life trying.

Somehow, after I figure that out, make that promise, sleep comes easier. And it'd be a whole lot better, if Greg's call didn't wake me at 9 AM.

"Gotta go," he says.

"Where?" I mutter, barely above a whisper. I'd only slept for like two hours. There's no way I can function properly on that little.

"Meet me downstairs in twenty," he says and hangs up.

Gail is still asleep and I slip out of bed slowly, so as not to wake her. But her eyes are wide open when I turn to drape the covers back over her.

"Where are you going?" she whispers.

"I'll be back soon," I say.

And I really hope I can be, because all the warmth of waking up next to her is already fading, and I want more, I need more.

She rolls over and closes her eyes, and I guess that's all I can ask for.

I take a cold shower, which makes me feel like shit, but at least my head is clear now.

Greg's waiting for me on the curb, leaning against a gas company van, already dressed in uniform.

"This just came," he says, pointing back at the van and squashing his cigarette with his boot. "There's a uniform for you in the back. Change and then we can get going."

My heart's rattling somewhere in my stomach, but I don't exactly have a choice in this. He unlocks the back and I climb in, pull the coveralls over my clothes, and tuck my hair into a matching ball cap.

"We're just gonna poke around a bit today," Greg says as he pulls away from the curb.

I nod and crank the AC higher, because I'm now wearing way too much for this heat.

"You know, I don't think you've said one word since you came down," Greg remarks, and I stare at him blankly. So much is swirling around in my brain right now, I actually didn't realize I haven't spoken yet.
 

"I'm not really awake yet," I say and turn the radio down, since the noise is cutting right into my brain. "Is this the van we'll be using for the job?"

"Yeah, if it comes to it," Greg mutters, focusing on the road again.

"It might not?" I know there's too much hope in my voice, but I can't unsay it now.
 

"I still say it's too dangerous," Greg says. "Maybe this recon stuff will finally convince Vlado too. I drove by the harbor last night, and there's hardly enough room to turn."

I shrug and look out the window, focusing on the blur of trees and houses passing by. We don't speak for the rest of the way.

The entrance to the harbor where the cars are to be loaded onto a ship is located about half a mile from a large overpass. It's almost pitch black under it, and the light on the other side is dazzling. Three smaller roads lead to it, apart from the one we came down on, and those must all lead to the maze of warehouses and stacks of shipping containers rising in the distance. Without a good map and a memorized route, it could well be impossible to get even a single car out that way. And I'm guessing the way we came in on would be blocked off in minutes.

Greg parks a few feet away from the gate, which as far as I can tell is manned by two security guards. One of them is peering at us, but Greg waves a chart at him and the man walks back into his booth.

Greg climbs out and examines the latch covering the gas main. Or it could be the water main. I'm not sure either of us can tell the difference. I get out and join him.

"This is a good place for one of the charges," he whispers, doodling something on his chart. "I got the explosives here, maybe we should just get on with it."

"I thought we were only looking around today," I say and he eyes me appraisingly then goes back to checking out the latch.
 

"We have the stringy explosives for this. State of the art shit. We wouldn’t even have to open the latch to set the charges," he says.

"Isn't what’s-his-name in charge of the explosives?" I ask, crouching down next to him.

"Why are you so set against this?"

"I didn't really sign up for this," I say and stand up. This is not the time to be adding blowing shit up to my resume. I return to the van and climb inside. If he wants to set charges now, he's on his own. Personally, I just want to check out the other roads leading away from here, and then go back home to Gail.
 

Greg climbs in too, slams the door shut and shoves the chart into my lap. "Fine, we'll let someone else do it."

I point at the widest side road leading away from the gate. "Let's see where that leads."

Greg drives off, and it only takes about a minute to realize I was right. It is a fucking maze. And I doubt we can even get a map. I pull out my phone to see if this road is marked on the map app, but unsurprisingly the blue blinking dot showing our location comes up in the middle of nothing.

"Not sure this is the best escape route," Greg says, and takes a right, which leads to a dead end wall of shipping containers stacked about ten high. To the left and right is the same. He tries a few more alleys, with no better outcome.

I pocket my phone. "Without a map this is a trap. Let's go see if the main road is any better."

There are a few roads leading off it, but I fear they all lead to the same dead ends we found before.
 

"We need a map," Greg finally admits, after he manages to find the way back to the main road leading to the underpass.
 

I take off my coveralls as soon as we reach the expressway ramp. It's almost 2 PM, Gail's probably panicking by now.

"I'll let Valdo know what we found," Greg says once we're speeding down the expressway.

"Make sure he understands it won't be the easiest job to pull off," I mutter. Though I won't blame him if he doesn't. Not after the warning Vlado issued at the start of the last meeting.

Greg grins at me, his cigarette balanced precariously on his bottom lip. "What? Tell him this might well be our last job? I'm not that insane."

"It can't be our last job," I whisper, seeing tears streaming down Gail's face like she's already standing over my dead body.

Greg's eyeing me like I said something weird, so I clear my throat and turn up the radio. The weather forecast is on, and they're forecasting thunderstorms for the rest of the week. At least we'll have the weather on our side, if Vlado decides to go ahead.

"It might be the last one either way."
 

I could just ask him what he means right now, but Mike's warning not to do anything suspicious is a scream in my ears, and this isn’t the time to start trusting Greg completely.

"Looks that way," I say instead, hoping even that isn't saying too much.

My heart is rattling in my stomach again, and I'm not sure what brought the nerves on so strong this time. Maybe it's the glassy, set look in Greg’s eyes, as he scans the road in front of us.
 

"I'll come by later," he says when he drops me off in front of our building. "Tell you what Vlado says."

I almost tell him not to, then realize I have no idea how to prevent him from meeting Gail eventually.
 

"What time?" I ask instead.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Six, seven? I'll call."

I probably should've mentioned Gail would be there, but it's too late now, since he's already driving away.