Sons of Thunder (14 page)

Please, Sofia, please.

Why hadn’t he waited for her? Markos paced the hallway of Union Station, his saddle shoes squeaking on the marble floor. Although his father’s coat shed most of the water, the wool retaining its warmth, he shivered.

Dino hid in a shadow of one of the tall Corinthian columns, watching the south entrance.

Markos leaned into an alcove, glancing at the clock hanging from the archway. Ten minutes to the train. Ten minutes to freedom. Already they had announced the boarding.

Please, Sofia, please.

He longed to jump back in the coupe, race back to Zante’s, but probably half the city—Jimmy’s men, as well as the fuzz on his payroll, scoured the city for him—thanks to the explosion that leveled the restaurant. Thankfully, it hadn’t lit up any other houses on the street. More than that, his plan had worked—or maybe his crazy, desperate prayers had worked, because for the first time in months something went
right
. He’d driven away, toward Kazalos, and Uncle Jimmy bought the hustle. Markos had watched, his breath leaking out in an agonizing gush when Sofia and Uncle Jimmy paraded out the front door and into the waiting Model T.

They were long gone to Tony’s by the time the bomb exploded. Markos longed to chase after them, to slam the coupe into the side of the Model T, rescue Sofia, motor them both to safety. But with the
heat carried by Jimmy’s crew, they would be mowed down before they turned the corner.

Instead, he drove straight to Union Station. To wait.

Markos ran his hands through his rain-slicked hair. What if Uncle Jimmy thought she helped plan—

“Markos!”

Her voice stopped his heart. He stepped out of the shadows just as Sofia flung herself at him, her arms hooking his neck. She shook, soaked through, her hair plastered to her head, her arms bare. “Where is your jacket?”

“I had to leave it at Tony’s. We got there, and then Jimmy’s crew ran in and said that Zante’s blew up—and in the chaos, I just…I just ran away. I didn’t look back.” She pulled away, stared up at him. “You set Uncle Jimmy’s place on fire.”

He tightened his lips, trying to scrub the sound of the explosion from his mind.

She bracketed his face with her hands. “I knew it—and worse, I think he knows it too. He roared out of there, saying, ‘That kid!’—and you’re the only kid I know who could make your uncle that angry.”

The train whistle blew, and somehow Dino appeared at their side. “We gotta go, Markos. Now.”

And behind them, at the end of the corridor—two policemen entered the station.

Markos shucked off his coat, settled it on Sofia’s shoulders. “You go. I’ll catch up.”

Sofia’s blue eyes widened. “Markos—you’re coming with us.”

The two cops had him in view.

“Listen—I’ll catch up. I have the coupe—I’ll drive to the next station. Dino, give me my ticket.”

Dino handed it over, made to follow with the cash.

“No—you keep that. Just…in case.”

Dino’s face whitened. “Markos?”

“Listen to me, both of you. Jimmy knows I did it—they want me, not you. Go—now. Get on that train. You have Dr. Scarpelli’s address—he’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t want him to take care of us. I want you!” Dino said, his voice angry, dark.

“I can’t anymore—don’t you see? If I go with you, the danger will follow. The fact is—it’s followed us all the way from Zante.”

“What are you talking about?”

Markos closed his eyes, the truth distilling through him. “It’s my fault we’re in this mess. I was so angry, and I held on to that. But really, I was holding on to my pride. I didn’t want to think I needed help. That…”

He met Sofia’s eyes. “I wanted to be the one that took care of you. I thought that maybe—well, that God wouldn’t really want to help someone like me, and I didn’t want to take the chance that I was wrong. But—I only destroyed our lives.”

He shot a glance at the cops. They’d stopped, now looked him over.

“I’m sure that Jimmy’s people are looking for me all over the city. If we wait, he’ll follow us all the way to Minneapolis. We’ll never get away from him. But if you go without me, I can lead them away.” The words burned in his throat even as he said them. “I’ll find you, I…” No, he wouldn’t promise.

Dino voice snapped, high, stricken. “I can’t go without you. I don’t know what to do…”

Markos hooked his brother around the neck, touched his forehead to Dino’s. “You take care of her. Promise me you’ll do a better job than I did.”

You don’t have to do this alone.
Sofia’s words thundered into his mind. No, he didn’t. Not anymore.

If we believe not, yet he abideth faithful: he cannot deny himself.

Hedy’s voice, shimmering with hurt, swept into his brain. Faithful. God couldn’t turn his back on him—because he was God.

And just like that, for the first time since leaving Zante, Markos could breathe. The coil of hot anger simply…drained away from him.

The cops made a beeline toward Markos. The train whistled again.

Dino pulled at her. “It’s going to leave, Sofia. We gotta go!”

“No—Markos. Please.” She had him by the lapels.

She stood there, her eyes flush with tears, both hands fisting his coat, and with everything inside him, he wanted to flee. To scoop her and Dino up and race to the train and…run.

Just run.

“No. I’m not going. This is the right thing to do. You have to go. I have to stay. God
will
deliver us.”

Dino gave him a strange look. “You sound like Mama.”

Finally.

“Markos—” Sofia said, her voice wrecked.

“I can’t run anymore.” He shackled her wrists, pulled them away from his lapels.

Sofia shook out of his grip. Stepped away from him, his betrayal on her face. “You…promised.” Her voice emerged raw, full of barb. “You…
promised
you wouldn’t leave me.”

“Sofia—”

“You! Stop!” The cops broke out into a run.

He caught Dino’s eyes and put everything there, hoping Dino could still read him. Still trusted him.
Take care of Sofia.

Dino nodded, his Adam’s apple thick in his neck. He grabbed Sofia’s arm.

“No.” Her voice tore at the end. “No!”

“C’mon, Sofia.”

She shook her head, held up her hands, her face turning away as if she couldn’t bear the sight of Markos.

Dino gave him one last broken look. “I promise.”

Markos flashed him a smile, a grin not unlike something Lucien would have given, turned, and ran from the station.

CHAPTER 10

A hazy, watery breath filled the air, the night turning steely gray, the hint of dawn. Markos flattened himself behind an applecart, watching, listening.

Praying. Because as he’d raced out of Union Station, as he’d heard the train pull away, he’d lifted his face to the rain and let it pour over him.

Cleanse him.

Wash him of the anger…at Theo, at Kostas, at Uncle Jimmy. At himself. The rain seemed to clear the fog that had been around his mind over the past six months, and for the first time he saw clearly not only his mistakes, but the hovering hand of God.

He abideth faithful.

In the form of Dr. Scarpelli. Of Peter Kazalos. Even…Hedy.

In fact, Hedy’s attention had probably kept him from becoming one of Jimmy’s rodmen, his assassins. He certainly had possessed enough anger for it.

A police car splashed by, littering icy, black street water into the alleyway. He’d made it out of Union Station and spent most of the night on the north side “L,” hopping on and off, weaving through alleyways, finally looping back around to where the coupe parked in the shelter of an alleyway off Canal Street.

He’d conjured up two plans. One included hijacking the coupe and heading north. The second seemed simpler—get on a train headed the opposite direction as Dino and Sofia. Maybe to Kansas City, or even New York.

He’d have to believe that with God’s help, he would find them again.

Uncle Jimmy had Union Station under patrol. Which meant that either way he’d have to hijack the coupe. Preferably before the dawn peeled away his hiding place.

Indeed, the street had begun to stir to life. The bakery churned out a smell that made his stomach roar. A newspaper truck tossed out the daily stack to a still-closed stand. Dogs watched him with sharp eyes from behind a pile of broken crates and barrels.

Markos turned up the collar on his suit coat, ducked his head, and stalked down the street, crossing it, then passing the bakery, until finally tucking into the alleyway. He pulled away the debris he used to hide the coupe then slid into the smooth, cool seat and fired it up.

He inched the coupe out of the alleyway.

Bullets raked the storefront beside him, shattering the glass of the bakery. Markos slammed the accelerator, tore out of the alleyway, fishtailed onto the street, and gunned it.

Typewriter shots took out the back window. Markos ducked his head, mashed the pedal, glancing behind him.

Spotted a Model T hot on his tail, with Jimmy’s triggermen hanging off the running boards.

He barely touched the brakes as he screwed the wheel left, skidding onto Monroe. Silent gray buildings loomed above him. He passed a cop car and it pulled out behind him, sirens wailing.

The wheels bumped against the cobblestones. Ahead, the skyline opened up.

And, between the buildings, the sun pushed out of the pocket of night, fingers of orange gold beckoning across the murky darkness of Lake Michigan.

The sea.

Bullets strafed the car. He hunkered down, reaching for the ticket in his pocket. Taking it out, he crumpled it with his fist and tossed it out the window. “Sorry, Dino.”

Pushing the pedal to the floor, he swerved to miss horse carts, a reckless Packard. The coupe had power—more than the Model T, even more than the Model A’s of the local police force. He swerved, terrorizing a dog that ran out in front of him, and clipped an apple cart. The fruit exploded like a bomb, meaty shrapnel littering his wake.

Ahead of him, at the end of Monroe Avenue, stretched the pier.

And, blocking the entrance, Uncle Jimmy, flanked by a squadron of Tommy-toting rodmen, ready to unload on Markos.

Markos slowed the car twenty feet away, kept the motor running.

Uncle Jimmy shook his head as he walked forward, his arms out. “Markos. Nephew. What are you doin’?”

Markos gripped the wheel.

“Okay, so we’re even. I get it. I’ll even forgive you, again. The truth is, I got insurance on the place, and compassion. I know you loved the girl. I even let her run away—how’s that?” He held out his sausage hands, as if in penance. “Just get outta the car, kid.”

Markos drew in a breath.

“You know you like it. The cars. The money. The power. I can make you strong. I can make you a Stavros. You and me, together. Family.”

Markos closed his eyes, drew in a shaky breath.

“C’mon, kid. Stop the games.” Uncle Jimmy gestured toward his men. They lowered their guns. Markos didn’t look at the pile-up behind him.

“We’re gonna win this war, and someday everything I have will be yours.”

Inside, a too familiar darkness stirred.

The wind caught the tang of the lake, drifted it into the car. For
a second, the smell swept him back to the clammy cave, to the swells pounding him against the rock, to the cool pull of the currents into the tunnels…into the darkness.

No. He wouldn’t give in to himself again. “You’re not my family! I don’t belong to you!” The words issued from him without thought, more of an impulse, almost a scream.

Uncle Jimmy stopped. His smile vanished.

No one leaves Jimmy the Greek.

Yes, they did. Markos slammed his foot into the accelerator.

Uncle Jimmy dove out of the way, as his men opened fire.

But Jimmy had ordered for himself an armor-plated coupe. Markos ducked, letting the car take the bullets as he aimed for the entrance to the pier.

No, Markos, don’t go!
Lucien stood at the end of the pier, waving his arms, the sun in his dark eyes, shining, hoping.

Markos saw himself this time, lifting his arms above his head. Waving.
I’ll be back, Lucien!