“Your boyfriend here killed someone for me,” he said. “We gathered a little more of the city because of it. Almost totally eliminated a family. We get death threats on occasion from some of the lieutenants trying to revive their legacy, but it doesn’t matter much now.”
“I heard your dad died too,” Jacques said.
Santo scoffed. “Jeez, that was a while ago. I’ve slept since then,” he said. “I’m not trying to sound mean about it,” he looked right at me. “But my father was a dick. And I would’ve killed himmyself if his cancer hadn’t taken him out. In fact, I’m not sure I didn’t kill him.”
“I’m sorry to—” I started.
He held up his hand, and on his finger was a set of keys. “I’m sure you’re both wanting to get settled and warm,” he said. “I’ve got one of those metallic car covers too. You won’t be using that for a while, and you don’t want it frosting over.”
“You’re like—some criminal?” I asked. It might’ve been the cold adding to my abruptness, or I was just used to Jacques telling me to ask any question I had.
Santo laughed, handing over the keys to Jacques. “Aren’t we all?” He looked me up and down, my stomach almost twisting into a knot. “Except for you, I suppose. You look too clean. Are you ruining him yourself? Or letting the world do that?”
“Thanks for the keys,” he said. “I’ll be in touch if we need anything else.” Jacques gripped me tighter. “And don’t forget why they call me Reaper. Keep your eyes to yourself.”
“Relax.” He had the type of smirk that made me freeze in place. “I’ve got someone in my bed already. He’s keeping it warm. Let me know if you want to double date, I’m sure I could swing us a chef to cook for us.”
I didn’t want that, but I also didn’t know where we were about to go. There was a door in the wall, but Jacques mentioned actually going underground, and I didn’t see anything going underground. I clenched my teeth together, keeping myself from asking more questions.
“I’ll let you know,” he said. “If we’re here for a while, we might need the company.”
“I don’t want you going stir crazy,” he laughed. “Everything is as asked. And if you need anything, call me. There’s a phone inside that connects right to me.”
“Thank you,” I let out. I didn’t know if I was supposed to be thanking him, but he was the reason we were going to be in hiding—and maybe have an extra layer of security.
“Let me get the car cover,” Santo said. “You should get whatever you need out first. And—maybe open the door.”
The door was hiding under the two wheeled dumpsters. It opened up onto a set of stairs. The keys were for a door at the bottom of the stairs, and inside, an apartment. It was already warm, and my nose was wet from the temperature change. We walked right into the living space with a large leather sofa facing a flatscreen TV on a wall. Everything was chrome and white with orange overhead lights making me feel like I was on vacation. I walked around as Jacques unloaded the car with his friend’s help—assuming they were friends. I didn’t know what criminals referred to each other as. The living room entered onto a hallway and at the end of it, a kitchen with fake window stickers was placed against the tile walls. Along the hallway was a bathroom and a bedroom—one bedroom, double bed, comfy enough after I bounced my booty on the end of it.
This was the complete opposite to what we’d had in Vermont. This was closed off, constricted, with zero ability to see outside. I sat on the leather sofa, drained, and watched as they brought everything in from the car. I was deflated, and still in my outside clothes—part of me wondered if we’d be leaving just as quick.
We weren’t.
I didn’t say a word until Santo left.
“How long are we going to be down here?” I asked as Jacques sat beside me, tugging at my zipper.
“Until we get someone to come tell us the world is good again,” he said.
“The world has never been good,” I said with a smirk.
“That’s true, but when I’m with you it is, and I want it to be like that all the time.” He got my jacket off and hugged me, pulling my entire body on top of his. He did that until my head was on his chest and his fingers were able to comb through my hair.
“What if it’s never good?”
“It will be,” he said. “I believe it will be so, I know it will.”
I looked up at him from his chest, trying to make eye contact, but he was looking up at the ceiling. I also wondered about the building we were beneath. “I’m not even sure if we’ll survive down here. There’s no ventilation or anything. And what about food?”
“Relax, kitten,” he said, his fingers becoming a little rougher as he pushed and pulled them through my hair. “I’ve got it all sorted. You should get some sleep.”
“I just—I need to know these things.”
As he started explaining how we’d get food through Santo’s workers, and that there were vents to make sure we weren’t going to go crazy from a carbon dioxide overdose, I fell asleep. It was better than any bedtime story, and he was right. I needed sleep. My day had gone from having a drink with friends, browsing the fresh fruit and vegetables at the grocers, to an ice skating game, and then being forced to hide from people looking for us—my anxiety had spiked so much already, that listening to Jacques’s heartbeat, so calm, put me into one of the best night’s sleep I’d had in a while.
***
Being underground wasn’t all that bad... was something I lied to myself about.
