Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

“Hopefully, our lookout sounded the alarm in time for people to dump their drinks onto the rugs, and the shelves behind the bar are designed to rotate so the bottles won’t show. As long as we have enough time, we should be fine, depending on who’s doing the raid—DPD or feds.” He crossed the room and scooped his keys off the floor, unlocked the door and motioned for me to hurry. “Come on.”

I rushed to the door, where he took my hand, looked both ways and pulled me down the hall. He wore only his trousers and white shirt, buttoned halfway and not tucked in. Despite the circumstances, the glimpse of his bare chest between the undone buttons made my pulse race even faster. He opened the hidden door and we flew down the stairs and into the tunnel. After scurrying like rats down long, twisting passages, we came to the end. Enzo unlocked the door, and I followed him through it. I couldn’t see anything, but it smelled wet and musty. Our shoes made no sounds on the dirt floor.

“Shit, I don’t have my lighter. It was in my coat pocket,” he said. “But I think the stairs are over here.” With tentative steps, he led me over to a staircase, and we went up, feeling our way with our hands along a brick wall. The door at the top opened into a garage. Thanks to pale moonlight streaming through high windows, I could see several luxury cars parked side by side, along with a black truck and a couple utilitarian Fords like mine.

Leading me to a white Cadillac, Enzo opened the door and shoved me inside. “Get down in the back.” Then he shut me in and took off without even a kiss goodnight. I watched him disappear into the stairwell before sinking into the plush back seat. Police sirens screamed in the distance, but I barely heard them over the riotous banging of my heart. With jittery fingers, I quickly snapped up my step-in, then clamped my knees together, smoothing my dress over my legs. I put my hands over my face. They smelled like Enzo.

My God. What have I done?

Chapter Thirteen

I don’t know how long I sat there in the dark, numb with shock. After a while, I began berating myself for all the mindless things I’d done—left Evelyn with a stranger, gone upstairs with Enzo, had sex with a gangster who didn’t care a whit for me beyond his erection, and who also happened to have my father locked up somewhere. To top it off, I’d abandoned my friend at an illegal club just as the police raided it, and now I sat in the back of said gangster’s Cadillac, waiting for some man I didn’t know to drive me home. I had no purse, no money, no weapon to defend myself.

And what the hell would you defend? Your virtue? Your body? Your honor? Ha! You gave all that away earlier tonight. And for what? To escape? To gain a shred of control where you have none? To feel powerful?

Tears filled my eyes. I didn’t feel powerful now. I felt alone, frightened, and stupid. Sniffing, I wiped my cheeks and whispered a prayer that Evelyn and Rosie had gotten out before the cops got in, and that we’d all make it home safely tonight. When the car door opened I gasped, flattening myself against the back seat.

A man slid into the car without looking at me. “Where to?” he barked, starting the engine. He was tall and thick in the neck, and he wore a cap like Joey.

My voice shook as I gave him my address. I’d have to wake up the girls to let me in the house because my key was in my purse on the floor of Angel’s office. God, I hope Enzo sees it there when he goes back for his clothes. I didn’t want his father to find it. The thought of Enzo returning to the scene of our tryst caused a quickening in my stomach. Don’t you dare, I commanded my body. But even my mind betrayed me by replaying the entire scene in salacious detail as the car exited the garage and drove away from the club. Outside the window, Detroit’s riverfront flashed by, but I was back in the office with my dress around my waist, head thrown back, waves of delirium crashing through me. I bit my bottom lip.

God help me, I had felt powerful. And I wanted to feel it again.

#

My pounding on the front door roused the girls within minutes. The Cadillac lingered at the curb until the lights went on in the house, and I wondered if Enzo had told the driver to make sure I got in.

“Tiny, what on earth is going on? You scared us half to death!” Molly yelled as I entered the house. Mary Grace cowered on the stairs, clutching her bear.

“I’m sorry, girls.” I closed and locked the door. “I lost my purse, which had my keys in it.”

Molly parked her hands on her hips. “How’d you get home? Where’s the car?”

“It’s still downtown. I’ll have to get it tomorrow.” I started up the stairs, patting Mary Grace on the head, the other hand gripping the banister for support. “I’m all right, someone drove me home. Now go back to bed. It’s late.”

“Damn right, it’s late!”

I whirled to face Molly. “Mind your tongue!”

She crossed her arms. “No! I don’t have to listen to you anymore. You’re constantly telling me to behave, do this, don’t do that, and you’re out till all hours of the night doing whatever you please!”

“Let’s talk about this in the morning.” I flicked my eyes toward Mary Grace.

“Fine, but I’m telling you right now, things are gonna change around here. I’m tired of being the babysitter all the time! I’m tired of dragging Mary Grace with me everywhere I go! I have my own friends and I want to spend time with them.” She gritted her teeth. “Alone! I want a later curfew, and I want a bigger allowance.”

“I want! I want! I want!” I screamed, grateful that I was halfway up the steps and therefore taller than Molly. “I want a lot of things too, you know. I want my own apartment. I want to spend the money I earn on myself. I want the freedom to go where I want when I want, and do what I want without answering to my father or my little sisters! I want to live life now and not wait until I’m too old to enjoy it anymore!” I came down one step and leaned toward her. “But you know what? We always want what we can’t have.” Then I marched up the stairs and into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

#

No laughter or frying breakfast greeted me the following morning. Just a dull headache, a dry mouth, and a soreness between my legs. Dragging myself out of bed, I went down to the empty kitchen and called Evelyn’s house. Her mother answered and said Evelyn was already at work, but I could reach her at the bakery if I needed to. I thanked her and hung up, relieved that Evelyn had gotten home all right. If I had a normal life, I’d go see her so we could talk about what happened. But instead I had to clean up after my sisters, who’d left their dirty breakfast dishes in the sink, try to reach Joey to find out about the heist, and figure out how to get back the purse and automobile I’d left at the club.

In the bathroom upstairs, I brushed my teeth and stared at myself in the mirror. Did I look different, now that I wasn’t a virgin? I turned my head and shoulders this way and that, but I couldn’t see that sex had altered my outward appearance. My insides—that was a different story. Every time I thought about it, my belly responded with a giant swoosh.

I dressed in a red skirt and the embroidered blouse I’d worn yesterday, which was the cleanest one I could find. The girls are probably running short on clean clothes too. Tears threatened as I stuffed a bunch of dirty things into a laundry basket. It was too much, trying to be a parent to them while all this was going on. Guilt over the way I’d yelled at Molly sat heavily on my shoulders. This wasn’t her fault.

After I had everything from my room that needed washing, I let myself into my sisters’ room. Picking through clothing scattered across the bed, floor, and dresser, I tried to determine what was clean and what wasn’t. As I worked, I fretted about the heist, knitting my eyebrows together. Had it gone as planned? I prayed that Joey was unharmed, but realized I wasn’t looking forward to facing him, having been with Enzo…that way.

He’s not your boyfriend. You’ve got no reason to feel guilty where Joey is concerned. But the thought of meeting his eyes made me want to go downstairs and sneak a little whisky from the pantry.