“Heard what happened on the freeway,” Tomaso said, sucking on his teeth. “Glad it wasn’t us. They’d have all been shot up.”
“I’d have dug their graves for them as well,” Rocco added.
Opening the van door to all the clothes inside. They looked puzzled. “It’s in the back. Secured to the—wait.” I walked out to see Donovan taking a drag of Santo’s cigarette. I didn’t say anything, all I needed were the keys, and they were in the driver’s side.
“I always love how creative you guys are,” Rocco said when I returned. “You’ve got like real clothes in here and shit.”
“It’s a full-service operation,” I told them, quietly, hoping Donovan didn’t hear—but excited for the prospect of being punished. “I’m sure you guys know that already.”
Tomaso nodded at me, the double-headed snake up his neck and chin seemingly moving with him—an optical illusion that had my eyes fixed on him. “We’ve only really used you for washing larger sums,” he said. “We do pretty well on the small stuff, but this was—”
Rocco shook his head. “Inheritance.”
I raised my hands a little. “It’s not my business,” I said.
A clang came to the side of the van. “You’re right, it’s not your business,” Donovan’s voice, down the side of my neck—it felt like he was trying to purposefully turn me on now. “So, what do you say about giving these guys their money, and we can get out of here.”
“I think it’s a good idea.”
We had to wait for them to actually count it—easily, since the bundles were nicely numbered. In that time, we were given lemonade by their mother. A croaky-voiced lady with a large combed back bush of silver frizz on top of her head. We didn’t meet anyone else, and they didn’t want to tell us anything about who those men could’ve been—apparently, a number of gangswere after them. We already had a name, but Donovan didn’t tell them.
Once we were back on the road, we pulled into a rest stop. Donovan parked away from other vehicles. Isolating us. He turned to me and took my hand. “Is your comms out?”
I shook my head. Jinksy hadn’t spoken in a while, I didn’t know if he’d gone, or whether he was listening intently to every word I said.
He held out his hand and took it from me, throwing it into the glove box. “I’m gonna say this once, and once only,” he said. “So, listen up.”
“I’m listening.”
“Thank you,” he said, slowly, with purpose.
My entre body deflated like he’d just pushed a pin inside me. I was waiting to go flying all over from it. “I—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he grumbled. “I just wanted to let you know. I think you actually did a good job earlier. You broke my order, which I will still like to punish you for, but you gave me the opportunity I needed to get that situation handled.”
“Thank you,” I said, a big smile on my face. “It’s easy to say once you know how. I’d hate for you to break your promise and say it again.”
Donovan’s eyes narrowed. “Do you understand why I gave that order?”
“To keep me safe.” It was obvious why he did it.
He nodded. “To keep you alive. There’s a difference. Alive means nothing if you can’t think of yourself in a crisis.”
“So, I was right to act?”
Turning away, I could’ve sworn I saw his eyes roll. “You were right to act. You were wrong to ignore my instruction. And you should have argued with me, and given me a reason, showme why you can do what I’m telling you not to. You should’ve obeyed me until I gave you a reason not to.”
“You had all those guns on you.”
“I had it handled, you just expedited it.”
“You were thanking me a minute ago.”
“I am still, but I’m saying, you should listen to me, until you know that you can handle it,” he said. And suddenly, I reinflated to defend myself. “You made the right call, you delivered a punch. That timing. That was all you. Well done.” He clapped his hands twice for me. “Good boy, is that what you want to hear?”
I smirked, it was impossible not to. “I do, actually,” I said. “Are you still going to punish me?”
His softly calloused hand caressed my cheek and chin. “Yes,” he said.
