Alessio’s phone buzzes against the coffee table. He glances at the screen and his expression shifts slightly.
“Luca,” he explains. “Family meeting.”
I nod. After what happened to Joey, I know things have gotten more complicated for the Andrettis. More dangerous. Alessio doesn’t hide the broad strokes from me anymore, but he’s obviously careful about the details when Austin’s around.
“Go,” I tell him. “We’ll be fine.”
He kisses my cheek, then ruffles Austin’s hair. “Be good for your mom, kid.”
“I’m always good,” Austin protests without looking up from his game.
After Alessio leaves, I curl up next to Austin and watch him navigate some colorful world full of obstacles and coins. There’s something soothing about the repetitive music and his quiet concentration.
Twenty minutes later, he pauses the game and turns to me with that expectant look I know well.
“I’m hungry.”
I check the time. Dinner. Right.
“What sounds good?”
“Pizza!”
I consider our options. We could order delivery, stay safely tucked inside this fortress Alessio’s built around us. But Austin’s been cooped up for days, and I’m getting tired of living like we’re in witness protection.
There’s a pizza place directly across the street with a neon sign boasting “Vegas’s Best Pizza!” in cheerful red letters. Through the window, I can see our bodyguard’s car parked below.
It’s fifty feet. What could go wrong in fifty feet?
“Let’s see if that sign is telling the truth,” I decide.
Austin bounces off the couch. “Really? We can go outside?”
“Just across the street.” I grab my purse, making sure my phone’s inside. “But you stay glued to my side, understood?”
“Understood!”
The Nevada heat hits us like a wall when we step outside, even with the sun starting to set. I wave to our bodyguard and point toward the pizza place. He immediately gets out of his car, positioning himself to follow us across.
Good. That makes me feel better about this spontaneous decision.
The crosswalk signal chirps, and I take Austin’s hand. His palm is small and warm in mine.
“Remember, stay close?—”
The screech of tires cuts me off.
A black van barrels through the intersection, ignoring the red light completely. For a split second, I think it’s going to hit us. My body tenses to throw Austin out of the way.
But the van isn’t trying to run us down. It’s stopping. Right in front of us.
Time fractures.
The side door slides open with a metallic shriek. A man in a ski mask jumps out, moving fast.
Every instinct I have screams danger.
He grabs my arm with bruising force, yanking me forward. Austin’s hand tears away from mine, his nails scraping my palm as he screams my name.
