“Winter!” Giovanni’s deep voice calls into the house and I peer outside the door to find him standing by the passenger door of the car, a deep frown on his face. His eyes meet mine and he makes a gesture with his hand for me to hurry the hell up before he gets into the running car.
I bite down on the inside of my jaw before shutting the door and walking out. There’s a pin pad for a code on the door, but I know the Costas aren’t worried about anyone breaking in, not when there’s men sitting in a box at the gate and even more men who patrol the perimeter of the compound like ghosts. If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve caught a glimpse of one or two of them before while looking out the window, I wouldn’t even be aware of them.
I’ve made a game of looking for them while locked in my room the last week.
When I make it to the car, Maximo is sitting in the back, his legs spread so wide that they touch mine when I sit on the opposite end of him. Enzo is in the driver’s seat and he’s dressed as casually as the other two, in a plain black tee that stretches over his ripped arms. His jeans are baggier than Giovanni’s but I still can’t help but to wonder what they’ll look like once he’s standing up.
My brow inches up when I realize that Vito is missing. When Enzo moves the car out of its spot, I know that he isn’t joining us.
Odd.
And I kind of wanted to see what a casual Vito would look like. He’s always just as well put together as Giovanni in those expensive suits, but I have no doubt that his chest and arms would look amazing in a tee that fits to it.
Unwanted thoughts of what he would look like continue to move through my head and it's part of the reason that it takes me so long to realize we’ve been driving for what feels like a whole hour.
“Where are we going?” I ask in confusion.
“We told you, a barbeque,” Maximo says from beside me but I can hear the annoyance in his voice, as if sitting cramped up in the car for this long has already gotten to him. He hasn’t been still the whole ride, his leg constantly bumping up against mine as his fingers tap along the arm rest.
“Yeah, but it feels like a long drive.”
We’ve been on the interstate for a while, which I wasn’t expecting, not when most of the places we travel to are a quick trip across the city.
“We’re headed out into the boondocks,” Maximo says, his gaze moving out of the window as Enzo exits the interstate. “It’ll be about another fifteen minutes before we get there.”
Who do they know in the boondocks?
This whole day officially feels a little weird, but I remain quiet because what other choice do I actually have.
Plus it’s nice to be getting back out of the house. I haven’t been to work in I don’t know how long. I’m not sure I even still technically work there, and admittedly, I miss Amarie. Other than Daria, she’s the closest thing I have to a friend right now.
The Costas have given me access to the pool out back and the library down the hall from my room, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.
We could be going to a gas station for all I care, it’d be much more interesting than sitting around the house.
The busy interstate gives way to bare country roads and Maximo is right, it’s about fifteen minutes before we come to a stop. We’ve passed by a WalMart and a big church, a few worn down houses, but those were miles back.
Now we’ve pulled to a stop at a huge, imposing steel gate. There’s a skull with a chain wrapped around it, embedded into the steel, and two men stand on the inside of the gate. Their eyes move over our car before one of the men waves a hand and the gates open with a long groan.
As Enzo eases the car past the gates, the first thing I take in is all the motorcycles. They’re everywhere, sitting just behind the gate and along the path that leads us past a couple of buildings. And when we get to the biggest building, which looks like it was possibly a barnyard at some part, there’s even more bikes, all lined up in a uniformed, yet weird line.
Enzo slows the car and parks it on the opposite side of the road, shutting the engine off. Everyone gets out and I take that as my cue to follow. I adjust my rumper, running a hand over it as I get to my feet.
I take in the scenery. The road continues past the building that we’ve stopped at and in the distance, I can see what looks like a couple of cabins and some sort of mechanic’s garage.
“This way,” Giovanni says to me, nodding his head toward the building.
I follow him, all too aware of Enzo and Maximo behind me. Neither of them speak, but their steps are heavy, gravel crunching under their feet.
When we get closer to the building, I realize that the whole thing isn’t still a barnyard, just the front part where there’s two rustic double doors.
Giovanni grabs the handle on one of the doors, pulling it open and I have to suck in a breath as we step inside.
It’s fucking beautiful.
And oh so chaotic.
The inside looks nothing like a barn, the walls modern and painted a soft gray. The biggest flat screen I’ve ever seen sits in the center of one of the walls where three leather, black couches form a half square. A lady is kicked back on one of the couches, watching what looks to be a soap opera. A baby is attached to one of her breasts and there’s another kid sitting on the floor with a coloring book. His crayon misses the paper numerous times, coloring the wooden floorboards instead.