“You figured it out that quickly?”
When I was a teenager, I remember one of our neighbors' house getting shot up. Despite a few eye witness accounts, the cops never found the people who did it. And the four lives lost had never gotten justice.
Yet, the Costas seem to need no time at all.
"I'm good at my job, too," he says with a sharp smile.
"Then why haven't you figured out-" I cut off abruptly, my eyes moving to the driver. I know I shouldn't be questioning Vito anyway, but it'll be worse if I ask an out of hand question in front of someone who doesn't know what's going on.
Vito tilts his head to the side slightly and I wait, embracing for him to hit me for the slip of the tongue.
His hand reaches out and I flinch away from him, flying into the door. His lips pinch and he shakes his head before his fingers trail across my jaw again. This time they're even softer and my breaths come out far too quickly.
"You've been hurt a lot." He doesn't ask it as a question, instead a statement. "You should know I'd never hurt you, physically."
"But that's what you do," I say even as I soak in his touch. I don't think anyone has ever touched me so softly, so delicately. As if I'm something to be treasured and cherished instead of ruined and destroyed.
"Wrong. I fix things."
"Which means you may have to hurt me one day if I become a problem." I stare at him.
"No." His gaze is inquisitive. "If you become a problem, I promise I'll never hurt you for it, not physically. That's not my job."
"Then whose job is it?"
The look in his eyes fades to something darker. "Maximo."
And if I ever needed more motive to do as I'm told, it's laid out right there in front of me. Maximo has already hurt me without any motive, what would he do if I ever gave him a reason to do it?
"And to answer your question, I can't do it because it'd raise suspicion if I went to the club to investigate. And a stealthy investigation would take far too long."
"What's the rush?"
Something about my question makes him laugh. "Isn't life a race?"
"Yeah, but I hear you can choose whether you want it to be a sprint or marathon."
He laughs again even though I'm serious. "Well, we need for this to be a sprint and I can't tell you why. I've already given you far too many answers and I don't want you to get the wrong idea."
Before I can ask him what that idea is, the car is pulling to a stop. I look out the window and find that we're parked in front of an unfamiliar building. Vito gets out of the car and moves around to my side before saying something to his driver in Italian. He slams the door closed and the car pulls off.
The building doesn't have any windows and the steel door looks like it's military grade. I frown as Vito drags me over to it. The door creaks slightly as it's pulled open and I peer inside, but it's dark, the only slither of light coming from the door which immediately ends once it closes behind us.
My heart starts to go wild even as I remind myself that Vito just promised he would never physically hurt me.
What's a promise to a mobster?
His hand gives mine a tug and my feet move on their own accord. Vito's steps are so soft that I nearly miss them. And then another door is creaking on the hinges and I'm bombarded with light.
Blinking, I listen as the door slam shuts before I find myself staring at two broad backs. Before they even turn around, I know who it is.
Giovanni's eyes sweep over me with disinterest before finally moving to Vito. "Took long enough," he mutters before spinning back around.
I only let my gaze move to Maximo briefly before moving away, even as I feel his eyes remain on me. A flicker of movement to the right has me spending around, finding Enzo moving in my direction. I back up out of instinct, right into Vito's shoulder. His arm wraps around me to steady me before disappearing quickly.
"Can we get this show started already?" Maximo sounds bored even as I watch him pull out a gun.
I try to move away again but this time it's Enzo who grabs onto my wrist, his grip tight.