Page 57

“Fine,” she says and I know it’s not.

“And let’s not forget, I’m still the Don. I have people.”

She waves her hands in the air. “I said fine. Go ahead and flaunt your Capo card.”

“Christ woman. I’m trying to save our skins here, and you want to get pissy about an ex?”

“An ex who called a butcher to tell him where you are. And who you laughed with harder than you’ve ever laughed with me. I’ve never even heard that laugh from you.”

“Because I’m that fucking happy. That was my standard fake laugh, which you’ve never heard. Now get your sexy keister out of this slice of hell shoebox of a car.”

She gets out and I join her on the other side of the car. I take her hand as she says, “Am I about to be an accessory to something?”

“You already are, but yes. This will go on the rap sheet that will never see the light of day, because even if the law catches us, I have a plan.”

She squeezes my hand. “You always do.” I kiss her quickly.

“Ok, you scamper in there. Get food. Lots of snacks, an XXL black t-shirt, a hat to hide that red water, a fuck ton of Advil, Gatorade, Gorilla gel glue, gauze, peroxide, and some antibacterial shit. And a bunch of those one and done ice packs. Along with the heating ones too and a bucket of arnica gel. All you can carry. And if you find it, some vitamin K can’t hurt. And get some make-up scrubbers or some shit and get rid of those fucking spiders off your eyelids. You’re gorgeous always. You don’t need those.” I peel some cash off the roll for her.

“You’re lucky I have a good waitress/chef memory. You’re spouting off lists like I’m a secretary.” I raise an eyebrow to her, as I seem to do around her often. I yank her to me, and she goes up on her toes and kisses me. “I love you.”

I cover my heart. “Mi amore. Te amo. I’ll meet you right out front at that door. Don’t go to the self check-out. Too many cameras. Go to an older checker with at least one person in their lane. Two is better and if they have a ton of stuff, that’s great. The checker will be hustling to get it all through and won’t remember you.” I warn her by dropping my voice to a level no one disobeys. “Do not be chatty. Wear the hat immediately, then give them the tag to ring up. Tuck up that red, Red.”

“How the hell do you learn all this shit?”

I cock my head at her. “How the fuck do you turn grapes into wine? You know what you were brought up in.”

“Fair point.”

I scout the parking lot, clutching my magic key fob that a cousin of a guy I used to know made for me. Innovative. Changed the car stealing industry forever if you did that sort of thing. Glancing around the lot I see my mark. A woman gets out of her white Honda CRV that looks like every other car in the lot. I walk toward her car as if I’m headed to my own. I glance inside to make sure there’s no car seat. There’s no kids’ sports equipment or crumbs on the seats. She’ll be fine if I borrow this. She can be late to work, but I don’t want kids missing school or doctor’s appointments.

I click the button on my fob. I know it opens all four cars around me, but I only need this one.

I put it in reverse and glide up to the entrance just as she exits. Her hair is smashed up in a new royal blue trucker hat and my heart fucking gets even bigger. She’s so beautiful. Jesus, my love for this one. I roll down the window and whistle. “Fiore, qui. Vieni qui, bella.” She grins and bounds up to the car and gets in.

I pull away slowly, turning behind the building to find the service entrance. There are several trucks pulling up and the foreman out on the loading docks. I leave the car running with the driver’s door open. I stand on one side of the car until he sees me. He nods and disappears. I dump the snacks out of one of the bags and fish around in my bloody jacket for an envelope. I wrap the bag around it and she watches the entire thing.

She turns. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ve made a mess that I’m going to have to clean up.”

“Pipe down. You’ll understand in a second. Also, pretty sure you can figure out what the fuck I’m doing. Jesus, always giving me grief.”

“If I don’t, who will?”

“Good question.” When my man returns, I greet him behind a truck. I exchange my Walmart plastic bag for his black leather one. We shake hands and I clap him on the back.

“Love to Kristina and the kids.”

He nods at me and smiles. “Good to see you healthy.”

“Doing my best.”

I jog down the dock and get back into the car and hand Pop the bag. When we’re three blocks away and turning onto I-10, headed toward the desert, she turns to me.

“What’s in the bag?”

“You think I got secrets at this point? Open it yourself.” She laughs as she shoves a handful of Combos into her mouth. Then she pops one into my mouth, and I smile. She opens the bag.

It’s money, passports, and guns.