“You think I don’t know when you’re lying? I carried you for nine months, Nevaeh.”
Dad and Ignazio have now risen to their feet and lurk in the background as spectators. Both seem lukewarm to the display that’s happening before them—a mother accosting her daughter about a late-night trip to the bathroom.
This is not where I belong…
I clutch my bag to my chest and sharpen my tone. “I’m a woman. Amarriedwoman. I don’t owe you an answer about my whereabouts.”
“You don’t owe me any answers?” Mom hacks out a laugh in my face. She edges closer, and I ease back, touching the surface of the door. “You’re not capable of making your own decisions, Nevaeh. You’ve been sheltered your whole life. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you walked out that door. You’d be in tears begging to come back after a couple hours.”
“I would be fine!”
Mom’s lips pull into a patronizing smile. “You cry when people raise their voices, Nevaeh. You have never been the strong type, not like me and your father. You can’t even do us this favor and help us. Instead you try to run scared.”
“Niece,” Dad says. “Not too hard. Nevaeh knows her limitations. She knows she’d never risk it out there. She doesn’t have a death wish.”
“She could barely ride the subway. I used to have her partner Darren ride with her.” Ignazio gives a disapproving shake of his head.
“That’s not true!” I snap.
“Go ahead then, Nevaeh,” Dad says calmly. “Turn your back on your family.”
Uncertainty makes my pulse tick faster. I resist the urge to back down like I’ve done the few times I’ve tried to stand up for myself. It sweeps in and almost overtakes me. Then I look into Dad’s eyes and see the coldness there.
His disapproval just because I’ve gone against him for once.
He doesn’t care what happens to me. He’s upset because he sees the code slipping through his fingers.
“It feels more like you’ve turned your back on me, Dad. It feels a lot like both of you care more about a prize than your daughter.” I spin on my heel and twist the doorknob.
“Nevaeh, don’t you dare!” Mom starts, then screams.
I’ve opened the door to a handful of men with slicked-back hair and dark clothes. But it’s not their faces I pay attention to so much as the guns in their hands.
Nero’s crew.
THREE
Nevaeh
“Get back,”coos the man in front of the others. He’s average height, average build, but possesses icy eyes as cool as his voice. He shoos us another step back from the door to allow him and his men space to enter. “Sorry to intrude, but we’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Dad pulls me and Mom farther away from Nero’s crew and inserts himself in between. He seems to recognize the guy who leads the small group of men.
“If this is about my disappearance from Nero’s headquarters, it shouldn’t be a surprise. I’ve warned him that I would be quitting.”
The ringleader flashes a toothy smile, playing it cool with hands in his pockets. “You said you were quitting?”
“That’s right!”
“Whoever told you you could quit? Was that in a memo I didn’t know about?”
The men behind him rumble out throaty chuckles. They’re so cocky and pleased with themselves for tracking us down.
Dad wavers on answering. He seeks out Mom with a glance over his shoulder. Their silent communication remains top notch. I have no idea what’s going on or what they’ve said to each other.
“I’ll go back,” Dad says. “If that’s what this is about, I’ll return to work.”
“It’s about much more than that now. You think we haven’t seen you with the ballerina?”
