Just as she was finishing up, there was a knock on the door. She turned in her chair, able to see the front door from where she sat. The man with the long hair went to the door and opened it a crack.
“Yes?” he said, but instead of an answer, the door was shoved open and he stumbled back. He reached for his gun, but it was too late. There was a series of loud popping sounds, and fountains of crimson blood bloomed on the long-haired man’s chest. He fell back, dead before he even hit the ground.
The man who had shot him kept coming through the door, a handgun at the ready. Two more men followed him. The man with the shaved head had his gun out and was firing back. He took down the lead man, the one who had killed his friend.
“Come on!” a voice close to Cherry’s ear said. She turned to see the chef. The woman looked at her with wild eyes, wide with fear. Cherry nodded and got up, and they ran for the bedroom.
Cherry collapsed just inside the door, and the chef turned and slammed it shut, throwing the lock.
“There’s a panic room!” the chef said. She had a thick Russian accent, much like David had when he wasn’t pretending not to. She pointed with a bony finger toward the closet, and Cherry forced herself to her feet, her legs shaking and quivering like gelatin. She followed the chef to the closet, and they stepped inside.
The older woman shoved clothes off the rack and moved to the back wall of the closet. She pressed in a certain spot and a door swung inward. She went into the dark depths, and Cherry followed her. The chef shut the door and then lights popped on. The panic room was small, made of concrete and steel. The door locked audibly, and a computer screen in the wall glowed to life. The screen cycled through shots of the apartment. Cherry hadn’t even noticed cameras anywhere.
The view of the living room was distressing. The two guards David employed were both dead, along with the first man who had come through the door. The two other men were in David’s bedroom, looking for the two women.
“They can’t get in here, can they?” Cherry asked when the shot moved on to the living room once more.
“No,” the chef said, shaking her head. The light was dim, but Cherry could see tears snaking down the older woman’s cheeks. Cherry was then surprised to realize she was crying too. Her heart was pounding. Nothing had ever scared her so badly. She wanted David.
The men found the panic room eventually, but they couldn’t get in. There was a small keyboard built into the wall in the room, and Cherry tapped buttons until she got the view of the bedroom to stick on the screen. They could just see the men, in the closet, hammering on the wall. Cherry was surprised she couldn’t hear it in the room. The walls really must have been thick.
Cherry screamed and slapped a hand over her mouth when one of the men was suddenly shot. David stepped into frame, flanked by three other men, each with guns drawn. The other bad guy turned, but David put him down as well. The chef reached past Cherry and opened the door.
David rushed forward and took Cherry into his arms. She was crying even more than she had been before. David held her.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
Cherry couldn’t answer. She just cried.
5
David and Cherry were on his private plane, headed for a small island off the coast of Greece. David had many homes, but this was one no one knew about. Or at least, they shouldn’t.
It was the morning after he had gone to get things cleared up, and now they were practically in exile. He had underestimated Nathan. He had thought the man to be a small-time poser, but somehow the little shit had pulled many to his cause. He was making a play for it all: drugs, sex slaves, guns. He had his little fingers in every pie, and it had worked. David had gone from the top to the bottom. He had people loyal to him, of course, but Nathan had usurped almost all of the criminal power in Chicago. David didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew he had to do something.
First, though, he had to get Cherry to safety. She had become a pawn in all of this. Nathan had made his move—it had worked—but he still wanted Cherry dead. Now it was to teach David a lesson, so he knew not to fuck with Nathan. David wouldn’t let that happen.
His manor on the small Greek island was large and airy, with open windows where the breeze made the curtains billow. They landed on the mainland and took a cab to the ferry, which took them to the home.
Cherry hadn’t been able to go to her apartment to grab any of her clothes, so David had called ahead and had the maid do some shopping. He showed Cherry to a bedroom, where all the clothes had been laid out. The poor woman was scared, but she indulged David and put on an impromptu fashion show. She had him sit on the end of the bed and then disappeared behind a privacy screen in the corner. Each time she came out in a different outfit, David oohed and aahed.