I frowned at the email. It was unusual for the Ruthless King to want another transaction so soon. He usually kept to two, three max per month.
This would be his fifth. I re-read his email.
To: The Ghost
From: Ruthless King
I have another batch. Interested?
K
It was dangerous. I didn’t want to attract attention to myself. It was the reason we both agreed that sticking to two transactions a month made the most business sense when we started this business relationship. And here we were, barely half a month gone by and he was already asking for the fifth transaction. I hated to refuse it, knowing it would earn us good money, but it would be worse if we lost it all for being reckless.
Yes, we had it all secured and stashed away but it would be for nothing if we got ourselves killed or locked up.
“What is it, Grace?” Ella asked me. I raised my head to meet her gaze. Matteo was taking a nap so we both worked. “You are frowning so I know something is the matter.”
“It is the Ruthless King.” She raised her eyebrow. Usually, we liked hearing from him. “He wants another batch cleaned, but it is the fifth one this month. I just think it is too risky.”
“Just tell him no then.”
“Do you agree, though?”
She met my eyes. “I agree with you. I know you like working with him and he pays well. But it won’t help us if we are caught.”
I nodded. “I’ll just tell him we can’t do it.”
To: Ruthless King
From: The Ghost
Sorry, I can’t do another one this month.
G
I shut down my laptop. I didn’t want to get another email from him and be tempted. It was probably best if I didn’t check for any messages over the next two weeks. Temptation was a bitch and caving in to the Ruthless King in order to get to that light at the end of the tunnel too fast could be dangerous. For my son, Gabriella, and myself. And we worked too hard to keep safe.
Why did he change his monthly rule? Maybe he lost some of his other contacts. Either way, none of it was our concern. I couldn’t help but think about what was driving his need. Unlike other runners, I never connected with any of our clientele over the phone. Ella and I kept it all through scripted email messages. Each email I sent was short and to the point. I never divulged what we did, keeping the language vague. But in times like these, it was hard not to ask for specifics. It would be easier and safer to discuss over the phone, but I wasn’t willing to accidentally reveal anything about us. We just had to do this for a few more years and then we’d be out of the game. Ruthless King or any other client wouldn’t matter anymore.
Ella and Matteo were my entire world. We looked out after each other because nobody else would look after us. It was a lesson we learned the hard way.
Two hours later, Matteo and I were leaving out the door. “I’ll see you later, Ella,” I shouted before closing the door behind me.
We were in our courtyard when I saw Lucia in the neighboring courtyard. She was in her late seventies but a great woman. When we moved here, she took a chance on us and let us rent this house. This little community was very tight knit and distrustful of strangers. It was what made it perfect to live here.
“Hey there, Lucia,” I greeted my landlord. Lucia’s English was another perk. It was heavily accented, but it didn’t matter to us. It allowed us to communicate.
She gave me a big smile. “Going to the beach?”
“I wish,” I told her. “Market.”
She walked over. “And how is our boy, Matteo, doing?” Matteo wiggled excitedly. “I think that means he’s doing good.”
“I think you are right,” I agreed. God, it felt good seeing happy people all around me.
Lucia handed my son a cookie. She always kept them on her, just for him.
“What do we say, Matteo?” I reminded him.
“Grazie.”
Lucia beamed. She loved it when he responded in Italian. I laughed. “Good job.”
“Where is your sister?”
“Oh, she’s getting ready.” I leaned over and whispered. “She has a date tonight.”
Everyone on the island believed Gabriella and I were sisters. It was easier that way. Besides, even if we were sisters, we couldn’t be closer. Certain experiences in life brought you closer than blood ever could.
She chuckled. “She better be careful with Italian boys. They are wild and reckless.”
“I keep telling her the same, but she won’t listen.”
“And you, dear? Any dates for you?” Lucia was nosy, but for some reason I didn’t mind it. It was a goodhearted nosy.
I chucked. “I got one right now.” I pointed to my son. “He’s the best-looking guy around.”
“Sì, sì. That he is.”
“Okay, I better get going. Do you need me to bring you anything back from the market?”
She thought for a second but then shook her head. “I think not.”
“See you later then.”
I put Matteo in his little stroller, and we started our walk towards the market. The breeze felt good, coming right off the Tyrrhenian Sea. The color of the sea took my breath away every single time. It was turquoise and clear, where you can see the bottom of the sea. And that salty smell that lingered in the air, no matter what time of the season, was just addicting.
“Buon giorno, Gracy.” The ice cream shop owner greeted me with a big, toothless smile. Everyone in Italy seemed to have a problem with pronouncing Grace so I became Gracy. There were times I worried about keeping my first name, but considering Grace wasn’t really an unusual name, I decided against changing it.
I waved and smiled. “Buon giorno, Paolo.”
“Gelato?” Ice cream.
I laughed. Dinner time was not for another hour or two. If we had ice cream now, Matteo would never eat his dinner. “Maybe later. After dinner.”
He grinned. We’ve had this conversation several times. He believed it was never a bad time for ice cream. I continued on, but awareness tickled at my neck. My eyes searched out my surroundings. I couldn’t help feeling like I was being watched. I glanced around me several times but saw nobody.
Probably paranoia, I assured myself.
We kept on walking, and within moments, the market spread in front of us. But the feeling didn’t diminish. In fact, it grew with each second. Instead of enjoying my stroll through the market as I usually did, I quickly got the items I needed and cut my outing short. Much to Matteo’s dismay.
If only I trusted my instinct!
