"I thought as much." I hung up and closed my eyes as I considered what to do.
Then, my cell dinged. It was a text from, of all people, Victor Romanov.
VICTOR: My driver Christian ran into your little sister friend downtown after her car was in an accident. She's here with us right now, having a cup of tea. Maybe you want to drop by and have a drink with us.
Victor had her. He'd figured out that she mattered to me. He was showing me how easy it would be to pick her up and take her anywhere he wanted.
HUNTER: Thanks for that. I'll be right down to pick her up. I appreciate your help.
Then I left the apartment and made my way through the streets of Boston to Victor Romanov's restaurant.
Fucking hell… Victor Romanov had already outflanked me and the war had only just begun.
Chapter 7: Celia
I put on my coat and scarf and rushed down the stairs to the street where Hunter's driver waited. I'd received his text less than ten minutes earlier and had been wondering whether he'd call me that night or ignore me.
The streets around my dorm were empty, the streetlights casting shadows along the roads. I got into the SUV and said hello to James. He nodded his head and touched the brim of his cap, but said nothing else as we drove off.
The late October air was crisp and I pulled my scarf more closely around my face to keep the chill off my neck. We drove through mostly deserted streets and I imagined James was taking back streets to avoid the heavier traffic on the main roads.
Out of nowhere, a car sped through a red light and hit us, knocking the car sideways and forcing it into the middle of the intersection. Seconds later, another car skidded to a stop. The car hit us at a funny angle and I hit my head on the side window, pain searing through my head.
In a few seconds, both James and I came to our senses. The impact had knocked his hat off but he seemed unscathed, although the front of the car had received considerable damage. Steam hissed from under the hood, and the right turn signal clicked in a steady rhythm.
"You okay?" James asked, craning his head to see me.
"I think so," I said but felt my forehead. "I think I hit my head."
He nodded and worked away at his seatbelt. "Let's get out of the vehicle."
I unfastened my own belt and struggled to open the door. James got out and pulled on it. A tall man got out of the car beside us, helping James open the door.
"Are you okay?" the man asked when I got out. "You have a scrape on your forehead."
I reached up and felt. There was no cut, but it was sore. "It's a scratch."
"You should come with me," he said. "I'll take you to Mr. Saint's apartment."
James frowned at the man. "Who are you?"
"Chris," the man said. "Mr. Saint asked me to follow. I'm a tail." He shrugged guiltily. "He wanted extra protection for her."
"Do you have ID?"
He pulled out an ID from his jacket pocket. "Saints Gym" was printed on the front with the gym's logo.
"Okay, but maybe she should go to the hospital and be checked out."
"Sure," Chris said. "I can take her to Mass General once I talk to Mr. Saint."
"Okay," James said and turned to me. "Maybe you should go with him. I have to wait for the police."
I didn’t know what to think. In truth, I didn’t want to wait around for the police and ambulance to arrive. I felt fine other than the bump on my head.
"Whatever you think," I said.
I followed Chris to his vehicle, which looked identical to the vehicle James was driving. I got in the passenger side and Chris got in the driver's seat and we drove off.