Me:I’m going out for a bit.
Kee:…?
Me:Don’t worry. I won’t be home too late, Mam. If I am, I’ll keep in touch.
A few seconds went by and she hadn’t responded. Then the phone dinged in my hand and I jumped a little, not expecting it.
Kee:I figured out why Grumpy Indiana Jones is so pissed all of the time.
Before I could type back, her response came lightning fast.
Kee:He’s in love with you.
The phone fell out of my hands. It clanged against the concrete and I scrambled to pick it up. Kee had already sent another text before I could respond.
Kee:You don’t have to respond. After tonight, I realize how short life can be. Nothing hits home like this. So I must speak on his behalf. He’s too stubborn to admit it, but after he gave you the phone, I knew. Some people can’t say the words. Some people have todo. They do things like give you a phone to make sure you’re okay. Love is not only in one language—it speaks in more than just words alone.
Another ding from my phone came a second later.
Kee:I love you, Sis. Be safe.XoXo.
Me:Love you back, Kee Kee.XoXo.
I didn’t have time to consider what she had told me. It was eleven o’clock and the invitation stated 11:11 PM.
Be prompt.
I had no idea if I had to stand in the miles-long line or do something else. I was fucking clueless. Spotting a man who worked a door off to the side, I duck waddled toward him, afraid my knees would give in and I’d tumble over.
All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Mari back together again…
“You need help?” the humongous guy said when I walked up. He was clearly Italian. He had a heavy accent.
I wasn’t sure what to say, and not wanting to say the wrong thing, I flashed the card at him. His eyebrows rose when he realized what I held. He spoke into the earpiece he wore, the words in quick Italian. Then, without a word, he took me by the arm, pulling me to the side of the building. He slowed down when he noticed how hard of a time I was having keeping up. Baby steps were needed for this adult.
Finally, we made it to a side entrance. It was private. Two more Italians stood at the door. I assumed they were, anyway. They all spoke the same language. Then one of them asked for my ticket in English.
I handed it over. He scanned it with his eyes before he used some kind of contraption to scan the card. It beeped a second later and he nodded.
“Ms.Andruzzi, identification. And I need to check your bag as well.”
He was all business. And I started to sweat. I had hoped that the ticket would be all that I needed, but just in case, I’d taken Sierra’s identification card from her dresser. We looked nothing alike, but one of the foster kids I once lived with had told me that bouncers never really looked at the picture, just the date. But somehow I knew that something…differentwas going on here. If he busted me, I was in real trouble.
I had no money, zero, and nothing else to hang my hopes on. I figured this would be a long shot, but I at least hoped to get through the door before getting buried a little deeper.
Taking a deep breath, I dug in my bag, handing him the I.D. If he turned me away, there was no reason to check my bag.
He studied the picture, shined a light on my face, and then did it once more. A second later, he spoke into his earpiece, again, speaking a language I didn’t have.
Then, not even recognizing my own voice, I lifted a hand to a man who had breezed past the security without even stopping. “Guido,” I said to the man at the door. “You can ask Guido…Fausti,” I tried at his last name, but it sounded like I was putting two different ones together in case his last name was not, in fact, Fausti. “Ask him to identify me, if you don’t believe me.”
Guido was the Italian man with Scarlett Fausti at Home Run. He had showed up at The Club, and everyone seemed to move out of his way. It was clear to see he had pull.
The Faustis. They were basically Italian royalty, among other things.
What the hell did I get myself into?
The guy with Sierra’s ID stood still for a moment. Maybe he was listening to his earpiece, but he watched me the entire time. Then he nodded once. “You’re clear. Now your bag,Ms.Andruzzi.” He held out his big hand.
