I trust Stone to keep us safe. Maybe I shouldn’t but I do. Probably because Stone is the guy Luca, the head of the Ferraro crime family, calls when he needed something protected…or killed.
In any case, it doesn’t feel like a lie when I tell Cami and Talia not to worry as I tuck them into the second downstairs bedroom that night. “Everything will be all right. No one’s going to hurt you.”
“I didn’t know Dad was a criminal.” Cami tells me when I pull up the covers on her side of the bed. “If I had known…”
That sentence trails off, and I sense, she doesn’t know how it should end.
“I’m glad you didn’t know,” I tell her. “I’m glad Stone is here to help. Please don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright.”
I think they believe me, but I can hear the sisters whispering worriedly as I leave their room.
God, It’s so unfair. I wish there was some magic wand I could wave over this whole messed up situation. One that would not only undo everything that’s happened to them, but also ward off any further dangers.
But life isn’t fair, and I don’t have that kind of wand, I remind myself, as I go next door to check on my widowed aunt. The excitement of moving in and cooking for two new people is no match for her Lunesta. She’s already asleep and snoring delicately, just like Garnet, who I find still fast asleep upstairs.
Everyone’s accounted for…except for the one man who’s the walking definition of taking care of himself. Which is why I shouldn’t worry about him. Or over analyze what happened when I went to tell Cami about the man who’s stopped by the agency.
It’s just, how did Stone go from Taco Tuesday to Liam Neeson a la Taken at the drop of a dime?
Because he’s the mob version of Liam Neeson, that’s how, Not Nice Naima reminds me sternly. And he does not need your help.
No, obviously he doesn’t. In fact, I have a whole case load folder at work, filled with clients like Cami who truly do need my help. But…
As soon as I walk into the master suite, my eyes fall on Stone’s overnight bag.
The overnight bag sitting unzipped on the kind of suitcase stand I only thought they had in hotels before Stone moved in. The wide-open overnight bag I’ve never been alone with before when Stone is in town. The wide-open overnight bag I might never have another chance to investigate…
To snoop, Not Nice Naima reminds me. You’re not trying to investigate; you’re planning to snoop. Through a possible sociopath’s things.
Okay, Not Nice Naima has a point. He didn’t even cry at his twin brother’s funeral.
No tears, but tacos, that’s a different story. I remember how normal he looked in the kitchen of my old apartment. Like a father. A real father, making something easy with his girls. And then there was the way Talia had looked to him when she got scared. Like she trusted him completely.
I think there’s something honestly wrong with you. Something I’m not seeing. What are you hiding from me?
Don’t…Not Nice Naima warns me. Don’t case file him.
Her warning makes me recall the argument I had with Amber when she thought things were moving too fast between me and Rock.
“You’re turning him into a case file. Getting all caught up in his sad backstory. Throwing yourself body and soul into making sure he’s rehabilitated, just like you did with me.”
I’d been so offended, but she’d been one-hundred percent right. I should have listened to her. Then and now…
Do not case file him. Do not case file him, both Amber and Not Nice Naima warn inside my head, as I force myself to turn my back on Stone’s bag and head toward the bathroom to begin my nightly routine.
Thatta girl, they congratulate me—
Right before I break and make a beeline to the overnight bag.
With a wildly beating heart and the voices in my head screaming at me about what an idiot I am for case filing a frickin’ enforcer, I unzip it…and take a peek.
“Holy macaroni!” I whisper.
The voices and everything else in the world go quiet when I see what’s inside his bag.