Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Fifty Five

Niko

Navigating the rusted, creaky gate was no simple feat; every ounce of determination surged through Sven as he pushed against the stubborn metal, and the metal cutters made deep gouges. With a final, grating screech, the gate fell into the shallow water. We emerged into the vast expanse of the ocean, where the gentle waves lapped playfully at our feet, their cool touch a refreshing balm against the heat.

The tide still lingered at a miraculously low point, revealing the soft, grainy sand beneath us where little fish moved with speed through the water. I glanced up at the sun, its golden rays beginning to dip towards the horizon—four p.m. or later, I guessed—a stark reminder that time was slipping away, making way for an evening of darkness, the same evening I prayed for just an hour or so ago.

Ignoring the sharp throb in my shoulder, I leapt into the inviting water, avoiding the metal we just littered inside, a cascade of salty spray invigorating my senses as it splashed against my face. With a playful shout, I turned away from Bianca, flashing her a warm smile—a silent encouragement, a shield of reassurance amidst our uncertainty. I crouched slightly, inviting her to climb onto my shoulders, determined to protect her from the drenching spray that cascaded around us. The cool droplets danced whimsically in the air while a thrill of energy surged through me, mingling with the refreshing chill that seeped into my skin.

We needed to find somewhere to stay the night; by morning, we should probably move around again.

"Sven, I need you to go back. We desperately need that cash to go undetected," I urged, matching my pace with his as we waded through the shimmering water. Out in the open, we were exposed, devoid of cover, and I felt the weight of that reality pressing down on me. But as Bianca's fingers gently toyed with my hair, her touch—a tantalizing distraction—I fought to remain focused. The weight of her presence served as a stark reminder of what I stood to lose if we didn't manage to get her out of this perilous situation.

"Do you really think splitting up right now, with her potentially trackable, is a wise move?" he replied, his voice a low murmur tinged with concern. "We have no idea what we're truly facing, and we can only speculate whether Densel's incapacitated enough to seek medical attention while his fool of a son struts around pretending to be in charge," he summarised.

I could see the logic in his words, the cautious reasoning he advocated, but a nagging doubt gnawed at me. How could we stay hidden if we remained tethered to one another?

"What other options do we have?" I sighed, the weight of our predicament pressing heavily on my shoulders.

"Firstly, we need to stick together; we need the numbers. Secondly, we need to go underground, or we need to go back to the island. I don't know; I don't see a way out of this," he shrugged, his eyes scanning the horizon, searching for something I couldn't see.

"There has to be a way out of this," I muttered desperately. But the truth was, right now, my mind was a foggy landscape. Yet, deep within me, I felt the stirring of hope that an opportunity would arise, as it always has for me.

"We have to keep moving and change our direction," Bianca added, her words bringing my focus back to the present and reminding me of her weight on my shoulders, a reminder of the risky gamble I was taking with the wound that still smarted and stung. It was reckless, but I pushed the discomfort of my aching shoulder aside to keep her dry for the oncoming evening. When the temperature drops, she's wearing shorts and a tank top. She'd definitely feel the chill of the evening, and I didn't want that exasperated.

"Do you know the area?" I asked her, suddenly aware of how little I truly understood about Bianca's past or her training. Her knowledge of this region—or any other area linked to the mafia kings—was a mystery still shrouded in shadows.

"Not very well; I only came here once," she said, her tone laced with a subtle edge hinting at a history I could only imagine. I instantly remembered her explanation of a night she felt so ashamed to have been a part of—her reluctance to admit her reasons for being here hinted at the dangers we now faced. I was so sure she purposely hinted at that night, the one where her father delivered her to Densel.

"Can you remember anything from that journey, Bee? Any details that might give us a clue about where their base is?" My heart raced as I gripped her leg, willing her to recall something—anything—that could help us.

"I—. We flew somewhere near here in the dead of night and met Franko and Gerald by the docks. Then we fled in a boat, but they blindfolded me because I wasn't allowed to see the journey," she admitted, her voice quavering with the weight of the memory. "I couldn't tell you a direction other than that the ocean was calm, and it took forever to stop. The birds were singing by the time we walked from the boat. I'm so sorry I can't tell you more."

"That's okay, Bee. It's more than we've known for a while," I reassured her, offering a supportive smile despite the fact she couldn't see it.