Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“I’m flattered,” I said, “but I’m seeing someone.”
He seemed surprised. Someone that pretty probably didn’t get turned down very often. But he stepped back and said, “Lucky them.”
I shifted the box and tipped him with all the cash I had on me. It was almost two hundred dollars, which didn’t seem like nearly enough for a thousand-mile round trip. But knowing Dante, Bowen was probably being well-compensated for this errand.
Once I was back in my flat, I carried the package into the kitchen. After I cut the tape with a chef’s knife, I plucked out a wad of bubble wrap and whispered, “Bloody hell.”
I gingerly removed a sleek, black handgun from the box, checked that the safety was on, and placed it on the counter, along with a box of bullets. I’d been able to push it to the back of my mind, but just like that, the fear of being on the run came rushing back to me.
I exhaled slowly and went back to unpacking the box. It also contained two thick stacks of cash, a padded envelope, and a decorative floral tin, which turned out to be full of sugar cookies. I fished one out and raised a brow. It looked like a chubby cock and balls.
After I ate the cookie, I raised the flap on the envelope and slid a passport, credit card, and driver’s license onto the counter, along with a note from Dante. It said: Hi cousin, thought I’d send you a little care package along with your new IDs. The Ruger’s totally untraceable, just FYI. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask. P.S. The cookies are from Nana. Apparently they were meant to be palm trees in honor of your move to California, but they puffed up while they were baking.
I muttered, “If you say so,” and called Dante. When he answered, I said, “Thank you. I appreciate the care package, but I don’t want the gun.”
“Are you sure? I thought it might provide you with some peace of mind.”
“It’s doing the exact opposite.”
“Okay, no problem. Put it back in the box, and I’ll have Bunny swing by and pick it up.”
“Thanks.”
There was a smile in his voice when he asked, “How do you like your new IDs?”
“I haven’t looked at them yet.” I folded back the cover of the Italian passport and saw he’d gone with the name Mikael Romano. “You named me Mike from Rome. Funny.”
“You really do look like my kid brother.”
“So I’ve heard. The documents look great, though. Thanks again for doing that.”
“Happy to help.”
“I know it’s only been a few days,” I said, “but have you been able to dig up anything on Philip Ashcroft?”
“Nothing we can use against him. Not yet, anyway. But from what my people are discovering, he’s no run-of-the-mill businessman. There are some indications that he might have ties to organized crime.”
I muttered, “That’s really fucking great.”
“But you do too, Sal. Don’t worry, okay? He’s not going to find you, and I won’t stop digging until we come up with something we can use as leverage.”
We spoke for a few more minutes, and despite his reassurances, I had a knot in my stomach by the time we ended the call.
Fifteen minutes later, he sent me a text to let me know his courier was in the lobby, so I packed up the gun and the bullets and went back downstairs.
Bunny looked hopeful as he hurried over to me. I handed him the box and said, “Thanks again,” before turning around and pushing the button to reopen the elevator doors.
He muttered, “Damn. I thought you changed your mind, and this was a booty call.”
“Nope. I’m still seeing someone.”
“What does he have that I don’t?”
I grinned and stepped onto the elevator. “Me.”
Once I was back in my flat, I came up with an excuse to send Armando a text, because I wanted to talk to him again. It said: I forgot to tell you the dress code for tomorrow is jeans and trainers.
He video called me a minute later, sounding amused when he said, “I had to look that up.”
“Look what up?”
“Trainers. Apparently it’s Brit-speak for sneakers.”
“It is. I don’t always realize how my time in the UK influenced my speech.”
“I like it,” he said, as he moved around the diner’s kitchen. “By the way, you’re going to be proud of me, because Javi talked me into leaving early. As soon as my cook gets back from his break, I’m out of here.”
“How did Javier succeed where I’ve failed?”
“He asked me if he could work extra hours, because he’s saving up to take his family on vacation. I obviously wouldn’t say no to something like that.”
I nodded. “Sounds about right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve noticed you’ll gladly do things for other people, but if it’s something that only benefits you, you’ll fight it.”