Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

Joey blinked at me. “Raymond? How’d you get him to do that?”

“Hidden talent, remember?” At his shocked expression, I said, “Don’t worry. I didn’t have to do anything drastic. A little flattery goes a long way with a guy like that.”

He didn’t look convinced but let it go. “All right.” He stood as he buttoned his shirt. “I gotta go tell Sam.”

“Right now?” I checked the kitchen clock. “It’s two in the morning! You’re hurt and you need rest!”

He tucked in his shirt and stuck his gun back into his pants. “I’m fine. Thanks for the help, and I’m sorry I didn’t show tonight.”

“Turns out I didn’t need you.” Anger bubbled to the surface of my skin, hot and itchy. Why was he choosing to put himself at the center of this mess when he didn’t have to? It’s not like he didn’t have other options—his mother ran a boarding house with a restaurant. He could work for her, or for Henry fucking Ford, or for anyone with a legitimate business where he wouldn’t have to carry a gun in his pants!

He reached for his jacket. “Are you all right here by yourself?”

“What difference does it make?”

As he shoved his left arm through the sleeve

, he winced a little. “Because I can come back.”

I crossed my arms, jerking my chin at him. “Forget it. I don’t need you.”

He looked at me, his expression a mix of apology and irritation. “Yes, you do. I’ll negotiate with Sam so you can make your money this week.” Digging into his coat pocket, he pulled out a stack of bills and tossed it on the table. “Here. Pay Enzo back. Immediately.”

I stared at the money on the table, wishing I didn’t have to accept it. How badly I wanted to tell him to take his cash and his gun and his stupidity and go jump in the lake. But I had no promise from Enzo that he wouldn’t tell his father I’d been short. Better to pay him than to risk Daddy’s life. “The whisky I couldn’t sell is at the boathouse,” I told Joey. “It’s yours.”

“No. You need to sell that whisky. This money’s just a loan until your pop’s back.” I opened my mouth to argue but he held up his hand and raised his voice. “Enough backtalk. You’re gonna take that and pay Enzo off, and then we’ll figure out how to get the next five G’s, capisce?”

Without thinking, I raised my voice too. “I really hate it when you tell me what to do like that. I’m not a child!”

He dropped his hand. “I don’t think you’re a child.”

“Tiny?” The small voice at the kitchen doorway made us both jump.

“Hey, kiddo,” Joey said softly.

“Mary Grace, what are you doing up?”

“I heard noises, and I was scared.” She rubbed one side of her head, where her hair was twisty and matted. When she’s nervous about something or can’t sleep, she twirls her hair in the same spot, which gives her tangles that take forever to comb out. “What happened to your face, Joey?”

“I’m clumsy as heck, that’s what happened. I opened the door of my car too quickly, and smack!” He mimed the door hitting him in the face. “Right in the kisser!” Mary Grace giggled. “Your big sister the nurse was helping me get it bandaged up.” He leaned toward her and whispered. “But she’s awful bossy about it.”

Mary Grace smiled. “She is bossy.”

“OK, that’s enough. Back to bed now.” Taking Mary Grace by the shoulders, I turned her toward the hall.

She looked up at Joey. “My Daddy isn’t here. Are you staying for the rest of the night?” The hope in her voice was undeniable, and I realized she wanted him to stay—she probably felt better having a man in the house. My heart sank to the bottom of my chest.

He glanced at me. “Well, I have to go someplace right now, but maybe I’ll come back.”

“Good,” she said. Then she looked at me. “I miss Daddy.”

“He’ll be home soon, honey.” God, I hoped that was the truth. “Now go on upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” With her worried blue eyes on me, I couldn’t say no.

“OK, just this once. Scoot.” I swatted her backside lightly and sent her down the hall. The stairs creaked as she went up.

“She’s scared,” Joey said softly.