We pick up Gemma’s meds and then head straight to Orrin’s. Poet’s Cafe is empty when we arrive. The sign says it’s closed, and the lights are dimmed. When I open the door, a bell rings above us. There’s a lingering smell of coffee and sugar in the air.
“What is this place?” Gemma asks in a hushed tone as she takes a step inside.
“A friend owns it.” I follow her in and lock the door behind us.
A moment later, Orrin comes out from the back dressed in a black turtleneck, with an empty gun holster strapped across his chest. “You got here quickly,” he says, giving me a nod before moving his gaze to Gemma. His eyes widen.
Gemma presses into my side, and her instinctual reaction to seek safety with me makes warmth spread through my chest. I wrap an arm around her shoulders.
Orin raises a brow. “Who’s this?”
“Gemma.”
“As in Gemma Garzolo?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrow. “Ras, what the fuck. What happened to her face?”
Gemma tenses beside me.
“Stefano Garzolo happened,” I mutter. “Do you have a change of clothes? Something she can wear?” Gemma’s still dressed in the yellow party dress from the night before and my suit jacket. I wish I’d remembered to take her winter coat when we left Garzolo’s house, but it wasn’t the biggest thing on my mind.
Orrin runs his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Give me a minute. But then you better explain what the fuck is going on.”
I nod at Orrin and watch him disappear into the back room. The half-hour drive gave me some time to think, and no matter how I look at it, there’s only one move that makes sense.
I have to get Gemma far away from here.
Garzolo might be off the chess board for the next few hours while he deals with his arrest, but by evening time, someone’s bound to come looking for Gemma. And if they don’t find her by tomorrow morning, it’ll be all hands on deck.
We have to be somewhere far away before that happens. Garzolo and Messero have too much reach in New York, maybe even in the entire country, so we need to get off their turf.
If we manage to get to Europe, I have connections I can use, but I’ll have to be careful not to go to anyone who’ll go straight to Dem. I can’t risk him finding out where we are, not after he made his position on Gemma clear.
A heavy weight presses on my shoulders as I think about him. Cazzo. I had to do what I did, but the guilt is already creeping in.
Gemma leans against me like she’s struggling to hold up her weight. I snake my arm around her waist and use my other hand to pull out a chair. “Sit down. You shouldn’t be on your feet.”
Gemma sinks into the chair, wincing in pain. Seeing her like this makes my heart clench. I dig inside my pocket for her meds and hand her the pill bottle. “Stop being stubborn and take two of these. You trying to win an award for being tough?”
She laughs weakly and winces again. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
I get her a glass of water and watch her swallow the pills.
“Happy?” she asks, giving me a shaky smile.
I squat down in front of her and cup her cheek. She’s trying to put on a brave face, but I can tell she’s still shaken up, and who can blame her?
That family doesn’t fucking deserve her. Thinking about what they’ve done to her stirs up my simmering rage, so I force myself not to ruminate on it. I need to keep a clear head.
“I’ll be happy when I know you’re no longer in pain,” I say as I brush her hair out of her face.
When I stand up, I see Orrin in the doorway of his back office watching us. He’s got a bundle of clothes in his hands and a pair of white sneakers. My body tenses when I see that his holster is no longer empty.
Is he going to give us up to Garzolo or Messero? I’m putting my trust in him mostly because of my history with his cousin, and because my gut tells me that I can, but it’s a gamble.
Orrin walks over and hands Gemma the clothes. “It’s a uniform. The only thing I have close to your size.”
“Thank you,” Gemma says quietly.
“Should she get checked out?” Orrin asks. “That bruise looks like it’s going to be nasty.”
“She already has been checked out. I was getting her medical attention when you called.”
Orrin links his hands behind his neck and gives a shake of his head. “Jesus. I’m sorry about what happened to you, Ms. Garzolo. I’m Orrin Petraki. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”
“I’m all right, thanks,” Gemma says.
I wrap my hand over her shoulder. “Get her a tea. And then, you and I will go to your office for a chat while Gemma changes.”
“Sure, no problem,” he says while giving me a wary look, like he’s wondering exactly what the fuck kind of trouble I’ve brought to his doorstep.
Once Gemma has a steaming cup on the table in front of her, I follow Orrin into his office.
He sits down in the squeaky desk chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Care to explain what you’re doing? The last thing I want is for Messero to get word that his fiancé left her house and somehow ended up in my coffee shop with you.”
“I wouldn’t have come here if I had other options.”
“You think I don’t realize that?”
“I need to disappear for a while with Gemma.”
He laughs like he thinks I’ve lost my mind. “What the fuck are you talking about? And who are you to her exactly?”
The guy who’s going to do right by her, no matter what it takes or what it costs me. “I’m going to get her out of New York. I’m not giving her to Messero. I’m also not taking her back to the fucking house where her father just beat the shit out of her.”
Orrin hooks his thumb around the thick gold chain hanging off his neck and blows out a breath. “This is one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard, and you haven’t met my cousin Hector, but trust me, that’s saying something.”
“I’ll pay you forty grand.”
He taps his index finger against his head. “This thing’s worth more than that.”
“Name a price, and I’ll pay it. No one knows we came here. No one in New York even knows you and I know each other.”
“Your boss does. Did he sign off on this genius idea of yours?”
At the mention of Damiano, something unpleasant runs through my veins. “Don’t worry about Damiano. He won’t fault you for helping a friend.”
“A friend?” Orrin cocks a brow. “I thought you were his underboss.”
When I don’t answer, he groans. “Fuck me. No, honestly, fuck me. This is what I get for having this friendly mug, isn’t it? If I looked like a mean motherfucker, you wouldn’t have come to me with this bullshit.”
“We need a way to get out of the country.” Orrin is my best bet for making that happen. Gemma doesn’t have a passport, and even if she did, Garzolo would be able to use it to track her, so we can’t just show up at the airport and catch a flight.
He sighs. “Ton chtýpise i malakía sto kefáli.”
I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing it’s not particularly flattering. “You bring in your cargo by plane, don’t you? Where do those planes land?”
He gets out of his seat and paces the cramped space before kicking a half-empty crate of condensed milk cans. “I’m going to regret this.”
“You won’t. I’ll owe you.”
He snorts. “Unless you’re the luckiest man in the world, it’s highly likely you’ll be dead within a week.”
“Not if you help us get out.”
A few seconds tick by while he stares at me, just shaking his head like he thinks I’m out of my fucking mind.
I probably am.
Courtesy of the woman on the other side of the wall.
At last, Orrin sighs. He grabs a pen and starts writing a string of numbers on a pink Post-it note. “Fine. I want a hundred grand wired to this account in the next forty-eight hours. We use an airfield about an hour out of the city. There’s a cargo plane leaving in two hours.”
I take the Post-it from him and put it in my pocket. “You can get us on it?”
“It won’t be a comfy ride.”
“Where is it flying?”
“Crete. I have a house there where you could stay. That’ll be another ten grand. A week. And I’ll have to tell Kal about this eventually. Maybe it’ll slip my mind when he and I talk in a week, but after that, I have to tell him, or I’ll be in deep shit. So you’ll have some time before he knows where to find you.”
Which means so will Dem if he thinks to ask. Kal won’t go running to Dem on his own with this information—we have enough of a friendship between us for him to keep his mouth shut for as long as he can—but it’s not a risk I can take.
“Deal. We’ll move somewhere else as soon as Gemma’s doing better.”
Orrin points his thumb toward the door. “You sure your precious cargo out there will go along with the plan?”
Gemma’s going to take some convincing, but I’m getting her out of here. She may not have canceled her engagement yet, but she will. When we’re far away from here, I’ll make her understand that her place is with me.
That girl is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“She took two oxycontin for the pain. I’m hoping it will make her more agreeable to what I’m about to tell her.”
Orrin laughs dryly. “And what happens once those wear off?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Your funeral.” He picks up his phone. “I need to call the pilot and tell him to wait for you. You should go talk to her now.”
I stand up. “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”
He waves me off, and I leave the office, praying Gemma’s groggy enough to maybe have taken a nap, but nothing’s ever that easy. She’s holding her tea mug in her palms, taking tentative sips.
“Where’s Orrin?” she asks when she sees me.
“He had to make a call.”
My palms are clammy as I pull out the chair beside Gemma and sit down. She’s changed into a white T-shirt that says Poet’s Café in a cursive green font and a pair of black slacks that are at least two sizes too big for her. At least the shoes seem to fit.
“Cute,” I say, bumping her knee.
Her lips twitch, but her eyes stay sad. Cazzo. I can’t stand seeing her like this. I wish there were a way for me to absorb all her pain so that I could free her from the burden. I’ve done enough things in my life to deserve that kind of punishment. She hasn’t.
“What now?” she asks in a soft voice.
Now, I fight for what I want.
“Your father was arrested after we left.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“The Feds got him. Rafaele will probably take over as don in the interim until he manages to get your father out.”
Color leeches out of her face. “Oh my God. I can’t believe it’s happening.” She swallows. “I think we need to go back,” she says quietly, and I can sense her despair.
She doesn’t want to do it. She just needs someone to tell her that she doesn’t have to.
I reach for her hand. “We’re not going back. We’re leaving New York.”
She blinks at me. “We can’t.”
“Yes, we fucking can.”
“Ras—”
“Do you trust me?”
Her brows pinch together, but she nods anyway. “Yes, but—”
I lean closer, taking her chin between my fingers. “Then here’s the honest truth. Those things you said to me after I kissed you at Mari’s wedding? You were right about me, Gem. I’m not a man of honor. I don’t give a fuck that you’re engaged. I want you, and I’m taking you. It’s not a question. It’s a fucking statement. There’s no scenario where I’m taking you back to the assholes that have mistreated and manipulated you. You deserve better than them. Your papa deserves to rot in that fucking jail. Let them scramble. Let them try to sort out this fucking mess. But we’re not going to stick around for it. We’re leaving. Now. Do you understand?”
She’s breathing quickly, her eyes frantic as they scan my face. “What about Cleo? I can’t just leave her.”
“She’ll be fine with your mamma. You’ll be able to talk to her once we’re far away from here.”
“Ras, this is crazy.”
I shake my head. “You came to me last night. You wanted to be with me. Well, here’s our chance. And I’m taking it for both of us, because if I walk away from you right now, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
I’ve caused a lot of chaos throughout my life, and God knows, I’ve often paid a price for it. This time, the price might be my life. Once we get on that plane, we’ll be on our own. Messero and Garzolo will put a price on my head, and if anything goes wrong, I won’t have Damiano there to back me up.
I should be fucking terrified.
But I’m not.
The only thing I’m scared of is hearing Gemma say no.
She’s quiet for a few long seconds, during which I tell myself I’ll carry her onto that plane against her will if I have to.
But then she takes my hand and presses a light kiss against my lips. “Okay.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “Let’s do it. Let’s go.”
