“I have a desk job,” I say flatly. “One that doesn’t require coffee runs and dry-cleaning.”Among other things.
“Well, I think it’s good that you aren’t working such a demanding job anymore, even if the money was good. I’m surethe front desk at a dentist is much more chill. For you and the bump.”
She is referring to my belly, which over the last six months has been dubbed that name. Although now it’s a little more than a bump.Hisbaby is growing fast, moving and kicking and wreaking havoc on my body.
“I’m glad to see you eating again,” Eliza says. “The morning sickness is finally gone.”
“Yeah. And it only took five and a half months,” I mutter.
She giggles at that, then reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers. “You really are doing amazing, sis. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but all of this was the right move. We just can’t look back. No matter how hard it is sometimes.”
I nod, feeling tears sting the corners of my eyes. “I know. It’s just… I still feel guilty. About all of it. I worry that I ruined your lives. I worry that I’ll ruin his life.” I place my hand on my stomach and my heart aches.
“You haven’t ruined anyone’s lives. We are all better off and safer because of you. Life really is better here. It just takes some adjusting to.”
“Tell that to the teenager down the hall,” I mumble with a sniff.
“She’ll get over it. But for now, you can’t get down on yourself.”
“You’re pretty amazing for a twenty year old,” I tell her.
“Yeah, well, I have a pretty great big sister.”
After we clean up the table, I run the water for a warm bath. Being from New York, I’m used to the cold, but for some reasonit just bites differently here. Maybe it’s all the open space. Maybe it’s the lack of chaos that gives you time to really just sit and think. About where you are, where you used to be…
… or who you used to love.
I have to shake the thought from my mind. I can’t lethimin, though he does try on an hourly basis, if not more.
Butheis in the past. And if there is anything I have had to tell myself from the moment he told me to get lost and we started driving across the country with no known destination, it’s that the rearview mirror isn’t to be focused on. It’s a reminder of what is behind you and nothing more.
As I lay in the tub, the little person inside me comes to life. He loves the warm water. I watch as an elbow, maybe a foot, rolls across my belly under my skin. I can’t help but smile.
But it’s a sad smile. He’ll never know his daddy. He’ll never know where he came from. His story starts out with blank pages. Pages I will have to write lies on to keep him safe.
But at the end of every day, that’s all that matters. All of them being safe. I just have to keep telling myself that.
No matter how much it hurts.
2
RANSOME
“That’s a lot of zeroes,” Baron says as we both stare at the tablet in front of us.
Those zeroes follow a number showing our profit, a profit that has quadrupled since the El Paso deal launched.
“I can’t believe we are really pulling it off,” he says as we walk back into the main warehouse where the trucks are docked. There are four here right now. Two unloading, their hot engines emitting tired exhaust from the heavy run, and two ready to go back out. The shipments are nonstop, no breaks between pick-up, drop-off, and distribution. Hence the zeroes.
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when an outdated leader steps down and a new man takes his place.”
“I gotta say, things have been much smoother since you becamepakhan, cuz,” he grins as we watch workers unload hundreds of blocks of cocaine.
“Again, knowledgeable leadership is everything.”
And he’s right. Ever since my dad was forced to step down (for more reasons than one), things have been running much smoother. Not to mention more lucratively. The Chadovichs have gone silent, hiding in the sewers like the rats that they are. No one questions my decisions or challenges my authority. My father is no longer calling meetings at all hours of the day and the night, so I am finally able to compartmentalize my two jobs. Although, I’m not going to lie, the help could be better.
“How’s the new assistant?” Baron asks as if he can read my mind. Hell, sometimes I’m pretty sure he can. Ever since the shootout six months ago, he’s stepped up even more, filling the role of my best friend. Cousin, right arm, wingman. If he made good coffee, I wouldn’t need a new assistant at all.
