CHAPTER 20

Rick never understood how he ended up inside the wardrobe.

For a few moments, his mind simply couldn't keep up with what had happened. He could still see the doorway flying open, Lake's furious stare, the detective's strong hand yanking him sharply by the sleeve—and now there was nothing but darkness, the smell of old wood, and a cramped space that left absolutely no room to move.

He cautiously tried to shift one foot.

Nowhere.

His knee immediately bumped against the wardrobe door, his elbow pressed into Billy, and his chest collided with the body standing directly in front of him.

He froze.

Only then did it slowly dawn on him just how impossibly cramped it really was in here.

Even breathing required caution.

Every deeper breath made his chest brush against someone else's only inches away.

Somewhere beyond the wardrobe doors, footsteps were already approaching—heavy, confident, the dull crunch of hard heels against the worn carpet.

The inside of the wardrobe vibrated ever so slightly. The old wood trembled softly, and blurred shadows kept slipping through the narrow cracks between the doors.

Coop walked slowly around the room, looked both men over, and gave an irritated smirk.

“So where is he?”

No one answered.

“I dragged my ass all the way out here for this? To talk to two errand boys?”

“Well, would you look at that...” Austin drawled with a quiet whistle. “Riley, did you hear that?”

He turned toward his partner with a broad grin.

“I think the rat just called us errand boys.”

Without waiting for an answer, he casually slipped a hand beneath his jacket, drew his pistol, and lazily spun it around one finger.

“Maybe I should just...” He pointed the gun toward Coop and chuckled softly. “Bang.”

Riley rolled his eyes wearily.

“Put the toy away.”

Austin clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“There you go... ruining all the fun again.”

Only then did Riley calmly look back at Coop.

“If I were you, I'd watch my mouth. We're here on orders, but Mr. Fox might not appreciate hearing that.”

He spoke calmly, almost without emotion. His voice was level, carrying the cold composure that usually stayed with people who had military training.

Meanwhile, Austin strolled lazily around the room, absentmindedly sweeping the barrel of his pistol from side to side. Rick felt Lake tense beside him, while behind him Billy gave the slightest involuntary flinch.

“Oh yeah?” Coop practically growled as he dropped angrily onto the edge of the bed. “Then let that bastard come tell me himself. I'm not his goddamn errand boy. Or did he think sending two pieces of trash would be enough?”

“Trash?” Austin chuckled, glancing back at him. “I like that.”

Riley walked over without a word and tossed a thick bundle of cash onto the bed.

Coop lowered his eyes to it.

“What the hell is this?”

“Half up front.”

Coop didn't rush to pick it up.

“Half up front?” He gave him a skeptical grin. “Since when do you people pay in advance?”

“Half now. The rest after the job.”

Rick cautiously lifted his eyes.

In the darkness of the wardrobe, Lake's face appeared only in fragments. Very little light seeped through the narrow crack between the doors, but it was enough to reveal his tightly clenched jaw and a look that sent an icy chill straight down Rick's spine.

He was furious.

Rick didn't think he'd ever seen Aaron this angry before.

Aaron's chest rose and fell heavily. His breathing still hadn't settled, and a sheen of sweat glistened at his temple.

He hadn't just arrived.

He'd run?

The thought hit him unexpectedly.

Rick stared at him without looking away.

It couldn't be... Aaron was supposed to be in Miami.

He should have been standing somewhere with a drink in his hand, listening to congratulations and enduring another round of ridiculous jokes from sweaty prosecutors and police captains—not crammed into an old wardrobe with the two of them, hiding from armed men.

But he was here.
Real.

So close that Rick could see the pulse beating rapidly in his neck.

He was just about to whisper, What are you doing here? but the words never left his lips.

A familiar tickle stirred in his nose.

He frowned almost imperceptibly and instinctively buried his nose deeper into the scarf, hoping to dull the growing irritation, but in the cramped wardrobe he only pressed his shoulder harder against Aaron and awkwardly bumped Billy with his elbow.

Sorry... his lips mouthed silently.

Hong instinctively turned his head.

Then froze.

A white feather with a black tip had become tangled in Rick's dark curls.

Billy's face slowly drained of color.

His eyes shifted to the wardrobe shelves.

Feather pillows.

Meanwhile, Rick could already feel the itching growing rapidly—at first almost imperceptible, as though someone had brushed the inside of his nose with the tip of a feather, but with every passing second it spread higher, making his eyes gradually fill with tears. He buried his face in the scarf again, trying to breathe as carefully as possible, but it hardly helped. Every breath became heavier. Somewhere deep inside, his body was already preparing for the inevitable.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Not now.
Not here.

The itch became almost unbearable. Rick shook his head desperately.

Billy no longer had any doubts.

His eyes flew wide open as they darted from the feather to Rick's pale face.

His lips trembled.

“No...” he whispered soundlessly.

Then he looked sharply at Lake.

“The feather...” he breathed so quietly that it sounded less like a word than a plea for help.

Lake understood at once. He reacted before Rick had time to understand anything at all.

His palm settled firmly on the back of Rick’s head, and in the next instant Aaron pulled him in with one sharp movement. The heavy flap of his coat immediately covered Rick’s head, almost completely muffling the sound.

The urge was stronger. He still sneezed quietly. The fabric of the coat swallowed the rest of the sound.

Everything happened too fast.

Rick himself could barely think anymore.

He jerked, trying to lift his head, almost instinctively bracing his palm against Aaron’s chest, wanting to slip out of this suddenly too-tight embrace, to get at least a little space back between them, to come back to himself…

It didn’t work.

Lake only held him closer.

So close there was no air left between them at all.

“Let go…” Rick wanted to whisper, but instead of words, only a broken breath escaped his chest.

He tried to pull away again.

Useless.

The hand at the back of his head didn’t even tremble.

Quite the opposite.

As if sensing that desperate attempt to break free, Aaron covered him more fully with the coat, hiding him completely from outside eyes and sounds.

That sudden helplessness made something inside him clench painfully.

The panic only grew stronger.

“Detective… hold him…” Billy breathed, barely audible. His voice shook so badly the words sounded more like a plea than anything else. “He’ll give us away…”

That was when Aaron leaned down slightly. Hot breath brushed Rick’s ear, burning his skin even through the strands of hair.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, barely audible.

Just two words. So quiet they were almost impossible to hear, but they seemed to knock the ground out from under him all at once.

It was as if a wire, heated red-hot, had been drawn slowly down Rick’s spine.

He froze.

Not because he obeyed.

His body simply stopped listening to him. His throat suddenly tightened so hard it became difficult to swallow. He dragged in a shaky breath and regretted it at once.

Aaron’s scent covered him.

Fresh. Sharp. Pine, damp after rain, light citrus, the faint bitterness of green tea, and something else… the very subtle scent of warmed skin.

It wasn’t at all like the scarf. There, it had almost faded. Here, it was real.

Alive.

It surrounded him from every side, filled his lungs, leaving him no chance to think about anything else.

His chest felt tight.

For one brief moment, he desperately wanted to breathe in deeper.

Just to remember.

To make sure this was really happening, that Aaron was truly here, beside him, and not thousands of miles away, as he had been all this past week.

Beneath his cheek, Aaron’s chest slowly rose and fell, and Rick found himself listening despite himself.

At first he thought Aaron’s breathing had finally evened out, but when he listened a little longer, he made out what he hadn’t noticed right away.

His heart.

It was beating faster than usual, thudding dully somewhere very close. Almost as fast as Rick’s own.

That tiny detail finally stole the last of Rick’s strength to resist.

At last, he managed a quiet, broken inhale.

The air still came with difficulty, and Rick remained standing with his face pressed into Aaron’s chest, feeling warmth slowly seep through even the layers of clothing. Hot breath barely touched his hair, and another shiver ran down his back.

Maybe it was everything that had happened lately, or maybe it was this endless week without him, but at some point Rick suddenly realized he simply couldn’t anymore.

His fingers trembled.

Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, they slid beneath the heavy folds of the coat. Carefully, as though he himself didn’t fully believe what he was doing.

One more moment. And his arms closed behind Aaron’s back on their own.

Rick slowly closed his eyes.

He hadn’t made any decision.

It happened by itself.

As if his whole body had understood before his mind what he had been afraid to admit to himself for days.

It became warm.

Not only outside. Somewhere deep inside, too.

For the first time in all this time, he truly felt his frozen fingers beginning to warm, felt the cold that had settled inside him after that conversation in the car slowly start to let go.

Unexpectedly, he realized with painful clarity how desperately he had needed this. Just to stand like this. Even for a few seconds.

Damn allergy… he tried to justify it to himself, almost guiltily.

His eyes suddenly stung. But his hands only tightened more firmly in the fabric.

Billy, pinned against their backs, couldn’t see it.

But Aaron felt it immediately.

Every careful movement. Every barely noticeable touch.

For one brief moment, he went still.

Rick couldn’t see his face, but he suddenly felt the breath above his head falter slightly.

And then the hand on the back of his head became even gentler.

Almost at the same time, Aaron held him closer.

Without words.
Without a single unnecessary movement.

As if silently answering those desperate arms around him.

Something inside Rick finally gave. He only buried his face deeper into Aaron’s broad chest, hiding his burning cheeks, feeling his heart start beating somewhere in his throat again.

It felt as though all he had to do was lift his head and meet Aaron’s eyes — and Aaron would understand everything.

Maybe that was why Rick didn’t notice at first that the footsteps outside had come closer. Only when another heavy heel struck the floor and echoed dully inside the wardrobe did he finally surface from that strange daze and freeze despite himself.

There was almost no air left. With every careful breath, his chest inevitably brushed Aaron’s, while behind him Billy pressed harder and harder into the wooden wall of the wardrobe, as if trying to become part of it. It felt as though one more second of this cramped darkness would force the last scraps of oxygen from his lungs.

Outside, everything was getting louder.

Austin seemed to be drawing out every second on purpose.

At last, right beside the wardrobe, an old floorboard gave a long creak.

Rick felt everything inside him drop painfully.

He didn’t even notice how much tighter he wrapped his arms around Lake. His palms clenched convulsively in the fabric at Aaron’s back, and his breathing fell apart completely. It felt as if his heart were beating not in his chest but right under his throat, so loudly they would hear it even on the other side of the door.

A long shadow slowly covered the narrow gap between the wardrobe doors.

The cheap, bitter cologne, mixed with the smell of old wood and dust, made it even harder to breathe inside the wardrobe.

Austin didn’t rush.

First, his fingers lazily touched the metal handle, as if testing its texture.

Then he gave a quiet hum.

“What ugly fucking handles… You see this?” he drawled with open disgust. “And this wardrobe is some kind of… antique thing, or what…”

Metal scraped softly against wood.

He slowly dragged the barrel of the pistol across the door, listening to the unpleasant scratch, then tapped lazily.

Once.
Again.
And again.

Each knock echoed somewhere under Rick’s ribs. Behind him, Billy stopped breathing altogether.

A brief, viscous silence followed. Austin was still standing by the wardrobe, as if waiting for something, and then he slowly leaned down, just enough to try to peer through the narrow gap between the doors.

Everything inside Rick fell away.

He felt Lake pull him even closer, shielding him with his body. He wanted to disappear. To dissolve into this embrace so thoroughly there would be no hint of their presence left outside. Even breathing felt too loud.

One more moment… And the door would open.

At that very second, loud laughter cut through the room.

Rick flinched so sharply with his whole body that he nearly gave himself away, and only a moment later realized it was Coop laughing.

“Well, damn…” he drawled lazily, settling more comfortably on the bed. “One of you shoves cash at me, the other stands around admiring wardrobes. Is this how you always do business?”

Austin gave a quiet snort.

The shadow covering the crack between the doors slowly slid aside and disappeared.

His hand finally released the handle, his footsteps moved away at an unhurried pace, and for several long moments Rick still couldn’t make himself breathe, clinging to Aaron with a death grip as though he were still certain that if he loosened his hold even a little, the nightmare would immediately start again.

Coop lazily picked up the bundle of money and slowly ran his thumb along the edge of the bills.

For a while he looked at them in silence, as if trying to feel out what exactly they were selling him.

“Generous,” he finally smirked without lifting his head. “Don’t remember anyone paying this much for a regular shipment.”

Riley’s expression didn’t change.

“You’ll oversee the cargo while he handles his business.”

Coop slowly shifted his gaze to him. Then looked back at the money and carelessly tossed it onto the bedspread.

“Something tells me this isn’t just a shipment anymore.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes slightly.

“And what’s he so busy doing that it had to be me?”

Austin smiled—not broadly, only with one corner of his mouth.

He took one unhurried step forward.

Then another.

Coop kept sitting there, not taking his eyes off him.

“Curious…” Austin drawled, almost affectionately. “I always thought that was a very bad habit.”

In the next instant, he grabbed Coop sharply by the collar of his jacket and, with one movement, threw him face-first onto the bed.

The springs groaned.

Austin was on top of him almost at once, pinning him to the mattress with his full weight.

The hand holding the pistol settled calmly against his temple. Cold metal touched skin. Only then did the safety click softly in the silence of the room.

Coop squeezed his eyes shut instinctively.

The bundle of cash slid off the bedspread and hit the carpet with a dull thud.

Through the narrow gap in the wardrobe, Billy saw everything.

The young man sucked in a sharp breath and immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened so much they looked almost white in the half-dark, and his shoulders pressed involuntarily into the wooden wall. The old boards creaked softly under his back.

Rick felt that wordless terror pass through all three of them at once.

Lake tensed so sharply beside him that the muscles beneath the fabric stood out clearly. His hand slowly dropped to the holster. And in the next second, the pistol was already in his hand.

His thumb silently released the safety.

Aaron didn’t move after that.

He waited.

Rick understood: if Austin pulled the trigger now, Lake would open the wardrobe doors. And then a shootout would be unavoidable.

Riley slowly crouched beside the bed, so their faces were almost level.

He looked at Coop calmly. Without anger or irritation. As if the man in front of him were not a person, but just another piece of trash that needed to be taken out on time.

“You misunderstood,” he said dryly.

His voice was cold and even.

“This isn’t a request.”

The silence in the room became so thick that even Austin stopped smirking. He only kept pressing the barrel harder against Coop’s temple, as if testing how long the man could endure waiting for the shot.

It was getting harder to breathe inside the wardrobe, but Aaron didn’t move. A drop of sweat slid slowly down his temple and soaked into the collar of his shirt. The pistol was still clenched in his hand.

No one moved.

Coop stayed silent for a long time. A very long time.

Then he slowly opened his eyes.

First he looked at Riley. Then, from the corner of his eye, at Austin. Then at the money lying on the floor.

He understood — he had no choice left.

Gritting his teeth, Coop exhaled slowly.

“Fine…”

The word came hard. He had to force each one through himself.

“We have a deal.”

Austin didn’t move for several more seconds. He watched him with the same sick curiosity, as if hoping Coop would still change his mind.

Then he clicked his tongue in disappointment, moved the gun away, and rose easily to his feet.

“See? You should’ve just said that,” he said almost cheerfully, as if what had just happened wasn’t a death threat, but a bad joke.

Riley straightened too.

Adjusted the sleeve of his jacket.

“Stay available,” he said, casting a brief glance at Coop. “You’ll get the details soon.”

Without another word, they headed for the exit.

A few seconds later, the room door closed softly, but Coop didn’t move. He kept lying face-down in
the bedspread, breathing heavily.

Almost a minute passed before Coop slowly rolled onto his back.

For a while, he simply stared at the ceiling, then buried both hands in his hair and squeezed his eyes shut. His breathing still wouldn’t return to normal.

Finally, he sat up sharply, got off the bed, and took several aimless steps around the room until he stopped by the minibar.

He stared silently at the bottles, as though he himself didn’t understand why he had even come over there. Then he grabbed the first one his hand found and hurled it across the room with all his strength.

The bottle struck the wardrobe door and shattered across the floor with a deafening crash.

Coop gave a short, bitter laugh. The sound came out hoarse, almost doomed.

“What a fucking mess…” he ground out through his teeth.

For several more seconds, he stood motionless in the middle of the room. Then, without a word, he picked the bundle of cash up from the floor, shoved it into the inside pocket of his jacket, and left without looking back.

They still didn’t move for a long time.

Even when Coop’s footsteps had finally faded somewhere deep in the corridor, Aaron didn’t hurry to put the gun away. He listened a little longer, and only then slowly lowered his hand.

The wardrobe door creaked softly.

Fresh air rushed in, and in the next second they almost spilled out into the room at the same time.

Rick barely stayed on his feet. He took a ragged breath with his whole chest and dragged a hand over his damp face, trying to come back to himself at least a little. Beside him, Billy practically slid down to the floor and stayed sitting by the wardrobe, among the shards of glass, his back pressed to the wooden door. His shoulders trembled faintly.

Aaron silently put the gun away.

For a while, no one said a word.

Lake moved first. He bent down quickly, pulled the backpack with the equipment out from under the bed, and shoved it into Rick’s hands.

“We’re leaving.”

Nothing else needed to be explained.

They gathered the remaining things in a matter of minutes and left the room in the same silence. Rick barely remembered how they got back to their own room. The image of the gun barrel pressed to Coop’s temple was still in front of his eyes, the click of the safety echoed in his ears, and his body couldn’t shake the tension, as though Austin were still standing on the other side of the wardrobe doors.

Only when the door shut behind them did Rick finally allow himself to exhale.

Big mistake.

Lake turned on him sharply.

“What the fuck were you doing?!”