Icing on the Cake Chapter 19

“Yes? Huh, yes, I understand.”

Fortunately, Heather caught on quickly. Though flustered, she looked up at him with eyes asking what she should do, and Yuri gave her a faint smile. Then he reached out and pulled the hair tie from her hair. Her brown hair tumbled down messily.

“Ah.”

Startled by the sudden touch, Heather’s face flushed as she flinched her shoulders. He felt bad for startling someone he needed to protect, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Excuse me.”

The moment he finished speaking, Yuri wrapped his arm around Heather’s waist. Her eyes went wide as she was pulled against his side. Yuri turned back the way they’d come and began walking toward the lobby.

Heather walked stiffly beside him. Because of the height difference, Yuri was practically holding her as they walked, and with his long strides, Heather staggered as she struggled to keep up.

Deliberately ruffling Heather’s already disheveled hair with his hand, Yuri passed by the lobby sofa. The man who’d been watching him earlier stared at them for a moment, then lost interest after a few seconds and looked away.

Without stopping, Yuri continued all the way outside. Still holding the tense Heather against him, he asked.

“Where’s your car?”

Heather, who’d been frozen without moving her lips, looked flustered at his question and pointed with her finger toward the far left end of the boulevard in front of the hotel.

“Ah, it’s, it’s over there!”

“I’ll walk you there.”

The two walked in silence for a few minutes. Only after reaching Heather’s car, parked near the crosswalk, did Yuri release his arm from around her. Glancing back, there was no one following.

“Um, Yuri? What was that just now?”

“There were suspicious people in the lobby. They definitely weren’t guests, which means there’s a high probability they’re here for Cheriot. I’d hope there’s some other target in there, but I thought it best to be certain.”

“Oh…”

Heather stared up at him blankly and nodded. Yuri scanned the surroundings once more before speaking.

“Get in the car.”

At Yuri’s instruction, Heather flinched like a startled rabbit and quickly opened the car door. Distracted, she sat in the passenger seat, then flustered, got back out. As she circled around to the driver’s side and opened the door, Heather hesitated and asked Yuri.

“Um, but, why did you put your hand on my waist?”

“If we both left separately, we’d be memorable—but if we look like lovers heading home after a night out, they won’t pay us much attention. Besides, you’re an acquaintance of Cheriot’s—if you were exposed, you might get entangled.”

Since he’d practically covered her as he brought her out, the chances of Heather being recognized were low. Though she was an acquaintance of Cheriot’s, they didn’t seem to meet frequently, so if she didn’t get further involved, she’d probably be safe.

Yuri fell into thought, trying to deduce the identities of the men in the lobby. They were definitely not police. They were far from undercover officers—they looked closer to mercenaries.

And that was precisely what was strange. Hadn’t they said the group chasing Cheriot was a biker gang?

The way those kinds of people tracked someone was overt. Most of them had tattoos like insignias, and they wouldn’t approach so discreetly. But the man asking questions at reception seemed skilled at not drawing attention—his nondescript clothing and the difficulty of confirming whether he was armed all pointed to that.

“Ah, right, of course. That must be it. I was just overthinking and imagining things…”

Heather muttered to herself, then hurriedly climbed into the driver’s seat. The sound of the engine starting reached him, and Yuri deliberated over what to do next. Since Cheriot himself didn’t want protection, he could just leave—it was an option…

“Yuri, you’re going to help Cheriot, aren’t you? It’s impossible to find someone to help him right this moment.”

Hearing Heather’s voice through the lowered window, he had his answer. Since there was no guarantee the men at reception wouldn’t get information, it was right to get Cheriot out for now. Resigning himself, Yuri bent toward the window. Heather, gripping the steering wheel and leaning toward the passenger side, looked at him with earnest eyes.

“Is your eyesight very bad?”

“Huh? My eyesight? It’s not that bad, but I have astigmatism, so I wear them.”

“Can you drive without them?”

“At night, I suppose I’d manage somehow…?”

Yuri nodded and reached toward Heather, who, though bewildered, answered diligently. At his sudden approach, Heather flinched as if to pull back but stopped, and Yuri carefully removed her glasses.

“Then let me borrow these.”

“Huh?”

“If I go back in as the same person who just left, I’ll stand out. Consider it a disguise.”

Heather’s eyes widened in surprise. Like an audience member watching a movie, she wore an excited expression and exclaimed softly.

“Mr. Yuri, you look just like a movie protagonist right now!”

“Save the jokes for later and go home now. Just in case, take a roundabout way instead of your usual route, and if there’s someone who can pick you up, ask them. I’ll contact you once I’ve brought Cheriot out. In the meantime, it would be good to look into alternative security firms.”

Heather nodded repeatedly, listening intently to Yuri’s words. Just as she was about to leave as instructed, she let out a small “oh” and caught Yuri as he was about to step back from the window.

“Yuri, come to think of it, I was going to tell you this. The group after Cheriot is a gang called Hell’s Keepers. They’re a biker gang, and drug smuggling and trafficking are their main sources of income. They’ve killed many people and have long been entrenched throughout Vancouver, with connections to high-ranking officials. Despite the childish name, they’re an incredibly dangerous gang—make sure Cheriot is careful. I’ll look into it more too.”

Shifting gears, Heather added one more thing before leaving.

“Ten years ago, they killed a famous hockey player. So… it seems they don’t spare people just because they’re celebrities.”

Leaving behind advice that would have been better delivered by Heather herself, she drove off. Yuri mentally repeated the answer that Cheriot wouldn’t listen to a word he said, then stayed in place until Heather’s car disappeared.

Soon, Yuri began walking back the way he’d come. Widening his stride, he walked quickly and stopped at where he’d parked his own car. It was parked on the back boulevard, one block from the hotel. After glancing around, he opened the trunk. A coat he kept as a spare was neatly folded inside.

Removing his black jacket and changing into the coat, Yuri stared quietly at the trunk floor. Beneath that ordinary-looking mat was a small suitcase. Recalling the ammunition cartridges and pistol inside, he gauged whether the situation would require that much.

A gun in the city… not a good idea.

A shooting in Canada, not the US, especially in a quiet city like Vancouver, would draw attention. Hopefully, these so-called Keepers Heather mentioned had enough restraint not to start something in the city proper.

After a brief deliberation, Yuri took only the coat. The best-case scenario was getting Cheriot out of the hotel without drawing attention, so avoiding conflict was the right call. There was no need to create a situation that required using a gun.

Closing and locking the trunk, Yuri put on the coat at a corner alley that avoided the CCTV sightlines he’d noted earlier. Reaching inside, he pulled out the military knife hidden there and tucked it into his sleeve. Then he put on Heather’s borrowed glasses. The prescription wasn’t entirely absent—it felt slightly uncomfortable—but it didn’t hinder his movement.

Taking a short breath, Yuri ruffled his bangs down over his forehead. A pheromone neutralizer would have been nice, but he didn’t normally carry one, so it couldn’t be helped. In a place like a hotel with many people coming and going, pheromones would be mixed and difficult to distinguish—it should be fine.