Dante’s arms tightened around her. “I’m not trying to pressure you,” he assured her. “I just don’t want you to let Agnes get in the way of what you want. Er, if you want it, that is.”
Nadia smiled, glad to know Dante wasn’t quite as smooth and confident as he’d been making himself out to be. But at least he knew what he wanted, which was more than she could say for herself.
Actually, that wasn’t true. She knew exactly what she wanted, and it was something she didn’t have: time. Time to take things slowly and see where they led. Time to figure out just how she felt about Dante and ease into the kind of relationship she’d never allowed herself to think about having when she’d been promised to Nate. Time to make a decision based on mutual desire instead of desperation.
Dante turned her around and cupped her face in his hands. “Sorry,” he said, then pressed a light kiss to her lips. He sighed. “I’m pressuring you whether I mean to or not.”
“No—” she started, but he silenced her with another kiss.
“If suggesting tonight might be the last time we see each other isn’t pressuring you, I don’t know what is. I’m being an asshole.”
Nadia smiled up at him. He was the perfect antidote to all the pain and ugliness that surrounded her, someone strong and thoughtful and honorable. The warm glow in her chest told her she could easily find herself falling in love with him. Or maybe she’d done that already.
“I’ve known more than my fair share of assholes,” she said. “You’re not one of them.”
Dante took both her hands in his and squeezed so tight it almost hurt. “Promise me you’ll come back to me. Promise … Promise you’ll win.” His voice was choked. “You have no idea how hard it is for me not to beg you to let Nate go alone.”
“Would it make it any easier to resist if I told you nothing’s going to change my mind?”
He sighed. “I already knew that.”
“I have every intention of winning,” she told him, putting every ounce of confidence she could muster into her voice. “This is not the last time we’ll see each other. I won’t let it be.”
Dante enveloped her in a hug, and Nadia prayed with all her being that she would be able to keep her promise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Now that Dante was in the resistance’s doghouse, he no longer had access to a car. Nate and Nadia didn’t dare take public transportation to get to the Headquarters building—way too much chance of being spotted and recognized. That left car theft as the only feasible alternative.
There were very few cars in the Basement—only the gang lords and drug kingpins could afford such an extravagance—which meant they had to obtain their vehicle from the low-rent Employee neighborhood that bordered the Basement. Nadia didn’t like that part of their plan one bit. Anyone living in that neighborhood who drove a car had either sunk his or her life savings into it or was driving a company-issued car and would have his or her pay docked if it went missing.
“We’ll just be borrowing it,” Dante assured her as he set out just before five in the morning to procure their ride. “The owner will have it back in one piece by the end of the day. And if Nate’s plan works, you’ll have enough money to more than make up for the inconvenience.”
Nadia didn’t mention that she also didn’t like the risk Dante was taking upon himself in venturing out to steal the car. However, he was the only one of the five of them who had the skills to pull it off.
“Be ready when I get back,” Dante said. “We have to move super fast.”
“Just go already,” Nate said irritably from the living room, where he’d taken to pacing like a caged animal. He didn’t like depending on Dante any more than Nadia did, only she suspected it was for different reasons.
Dante didn’t respond to Nate’s prodding, unless you could call the heady kiss he gave Nadia in farewell a response. Nate said something she was sure wasn’t complimentary under his breath.
“See you soon,” Dante said, and then he was gone.
Bishop parked himself by the window, leaning on the sill and looking out. Dante would signal with his headlights as he drove up, and Bishop would let Nate and Nadia know it was time to go. Agnes was back in her pink dress, huddled in a corner half-asleep. She had torn out a layer of petticoat from beneath the skirt and was using that petticoat as a makeshift shawl to keep her shoulders warm. The gel had not washed out of her hair as cleanly as Bishop had claimed it would, so her hair was baby-blanket blue. Nadia was desperately worried about what would happen to the girl if she and Nate failed. Dante and Bishop were both tough and strong-willed, with a heavy dose of streetsmarts to boot. They had a decent shot of protecting themselves if everything went to hell. Agnes, on the other hand, was spectacularly ill-equipped for a life on the run.
“Kurt and Dante will take care of her if need be,” Nate said practically in her ear, and Nadia jumped. She’d been so focused on Agnes she hadn’t even noticed him approaching.
Nadia slipped her hand into his and squeezed. “Let’s hope they don’t need to.” She met his eyes and saw the same combination of fear and determination that she suspected he saw in hers.
Nate resumed his pacing, and Nadia resumed her pointless worrying, until a few minutes later, when Bishop came to attention at the window.
“Showtime,” he told them, grabbing the thin sheet that he’d bundled up by his feet. The chances that anyone in Debasement would see them getting into the car, recognize them, and report them were incredibly low, but why risk it? They’d look weird running around with a sheet draped over them, but weird was better than recognized.
Nadia looked away, not wanting to intrude while Bishop gave Nate a kiss good-bye. Then Bishop helped drape the sheet over them so that it would hide their faces and as much of their bodies as they could manage, and they hurried down to the first floor to be ready when the car pulled up.
They made it into the backseat of the car without incident.
“Stay down,” Dante ordered them unnecessarily. They had already been over the plan about twenty-five times, and it involved eliminating any chance of anyone seeing and recognizing them before they reached Headquarters.
Nate squeezed himself into the tight space on the floor behind the passenger seat, while Nadia lay down on the backseat. They kept the sheet draped over them for maximum anonymity, even though it made the air feel stuffy and close. Or maybe that was just Nadia’s nerves.
“Are we completely insane to try this?” Nate muttered as the car bumped its way over the poorly maintained streets of the Basement.
Nadia shrugged. “Maybe. But I didn’t come up with any new options overnight, and I guess you didn’t either, so we’re kinda stuck with it.”
That was the last of the conversation. The ride soon smoothed out, the car having crossed the Basement’s border.
It seemed to take forever to get to Headquarters, though Nadia supposed it wasn’t much more than twenty-five minutes with the thin traffic of early morning. She couldn’t wait to get out from under the suffocating sheet and actually do something. The worry and anticipation were surely going to drive her insane if she had to stay still any longer.
“We’re only a couple of blocks away,” Dante said, breaking the long silence. “Get ready.”
Nadia patted the pockets of her much-loathed retreat uniform, making doubly sure she had her canister of knockout gas and the small gun she’d taken from Lily within easy reach. She heard Nate similarly patting himself down, then heard a soft click, which she gathered was the sound of him turning off the safety on Fischer’s gun. He was also carrying the gun Nadia had taken from the tower guard as a backup. She closed her eyes and prayed they didn’t have to shoot people who were just trying to do their jobs. But if that was what she had to do to protect herself and her friends, she was determined to do it.