Chapter 5 - The Pier
Midnight at Pier 39 was usually silent, save for the barking of the sea lions in the distance and the lap of the dark water against the wooden pylons. A thick marine layer of fog had rolled in, turning the neon signs of the closed tourist shops into blurry halos of light.
I drove Roman’s black SUV slowly down the empty promenade. Roman was slumped in the passenger seat, his eyes closed, playing the part of an unconscious man. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
“Breathe, Nora,” Roman whispered without moving his lips. “My men are already here. You cannot see them, but they are watching every shadow. Just stop the car where he told you.”
I pulled the SUV to a halt near the carousel. The wooden horses looked eerie and monstrous in the fog.
I put the car in park and stepped out. The cold air bit through my jacket.
“Silas!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the wooden planks. “I brought him! Where is my father?”
From the shadows of the old arcade, a man stepped forward. Silas. He was tall, impeccably dressed in a gray suit, holding a silver handgun casually at his side. He smiled, and it was the most reptilian thing I had ever seen.
Two massive armed guards flanked him, dragging a battered, terrified man between them. My father.
“Nora! I’m sorry, Nora!” my father wept, his face a mess of blood and regret.
“Shut up, Arthur,” Silas snapped, stepping closer to the SUV. He peered through the dark window at Roman’s slumped form. “Well done, little bird. I wasn't sure you had the stomach for it. Bianchi always did have a blind spot for a pretty face.”
“Let my father go,” I demanded, gripping the door handle.
“Oh, I will,” Silas smirked. “Right after I put a bullet in Roman’s brain to make sure you didn't botch the dosage. Step aside.”
Silas raised his gun toward the window.
The trap sprang.
Roman’s eyes snapped open. He kicked the passenger door outward with explosive force. The heavy armored door slammed into Silas, shattering his wrist and sending the silver gun flying into the fog.
Before Silas’s guards could raise their weapons, the fog itself seemed to erupt.
Laser sights sliced through the mist. Suppressed gunfire pff-pff-pff dropped the two guards instantly. They hit the wooden pier before my father even realized he had been let go.
Roman stepped out of the SUV, a phantom rising from the grave. He held his own weapon, aiming it directly at Silas, who was groaning on the ground, clutching his broken wrist.
“You always were predictable, Silas,” Roman said, his voice echoing like a death knell. “You thought you could leverage my woman against me.”
Silas spat blood onto the planks. “She’s a waitress, Roman. You’re going to war over a waitress?”
“She is a queen,” Roman corrected, his eyes dark and merciless. “And you are out of time.”
Roman didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger. A single shot echoed across the bay, and Silas collapsed back onto the wood, lifeless.
The silence that followed was absolute. The fog seemed to swallow the sound. Dante and half a dozen men emerged from the shadows, sweeping the area and securing the perimeter.
I ran to my father, dropping to my knees. I checked his pulse, wiping the blood from his face. He was terrified, shaking like a leaf, staring at the carnage around him.
“Nora, what... who are these people?” he stammered.
Roman walked over, towering above us. He looked at my father with absolute disdain.
“I bought your debt, Arthur,” Roman said coldly. “Which means you owe me. You are going to get on a plane to Florida tonight. You will be provided with a house and a modest allowance. If you ever gamble again, if you ever contact Nora again, if you ever step foot in California again, I will not be as forgiving as your daughter.”
My father looked at Roman, then at me. He nodded frantically, too terrified to speak. Dante hauled him to his feet and dragged him toward a waiting car.
I stood up, the adrenaline leaving my body in a sudden rush. My knees buckled.
Roman dropped his gun and caught me before I hit the ground. He scooped me up into his arms, burying his face in my neck, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe.
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“It’s over,” he whispered against my skin. “It’s over, Nora. You’re safe.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his chest, surrounded by the smell of saltwater, gunpowder, and the man who had just burned down a city to keep me safe.
