by Elle Wright
“What do you want?”
She kissed his chest. “I’ve never lived in a dorm. I’d like to experience that part of college.”
“Money.”
She sat up and motioned for him to follow her. “Do me a favor. Pull out the fridge. This sucker is heavier than the one in my old apartment.”
He raised his brows but did as she asked. She went to the utensils drawer and pulled out a knife, then she went behind the fridge and pushed the knife between the baseboard and the wall. The baseboard gave way, she moved it aside, then she stuck the knife in the wall, but it turned out to be a seam in the wall. A narrow rectangle of drywall popped into her hand. She reached inside the wall and pulled out a small plastic bag. Then another. Then three more. She stood, his t-shirt hanging just below her ass. Great fucking view.
“Another skill I didn’t know you had.”
She smirked. “Those idiots didn’t think a kid, especially a girl, heard what they said, or watched what they did. For years I learned about being a criminal while pretending to do homework in my room. When Vaysl was sent to prison, I went around the apartment and sprung the baseboards in every room.”
“How much?”
“Sixty-three thousand eight hundred and fifty dollars.”
He whistled. “What’s left?”
“A little less than thirty.”
“Most of it went to your mother’s care and your tuition.”
She nodded.
“You a scholarship student?”
“Half ride.”
“You’re so fucking smart they paid to get you.”
She smiled.
“Hey. When did you get the money out of the old apartment?”
“After seeing you cringe, and hearing you mutter, especially when you were cursing at the shower, I had a feeling we wouldn’t be there more than a day or two.”
He tapped her temple with his finger. “That thing never stops working.”
“As if you slack.”
He leaned back against the counter and eyed the money. “That’ll barely get you through the year. Especially since you’re taking summer classes to catch up.”
“I thought I’d get a part-time job to carry me through. I plan on talking to financial aid to see if they’ll squeeze out a little more.”
“I’ve got you.”
“You are not touching your personal money.”
He placed his hands on her soft cheeks. “You in this for the long haul, Ace?”
She nodded.
“Then everything we have is ours.” She got that I’m-going-to-argue look in her eyes. “Ut.” She bit her top lip. “Answer this. Who’s going to be the only wage earner when I’m in medical school?”
“Me.”
“Who’s going to be the primary wage earner when I’m an intern?”
She smiled. “Me.”
“Resident?”
“Okay. Point taken.”
“I’ll leave the money where it is, making more money. I’ll sell the Ferrari.”
“I’m guessing that was a gift.”
“Yeah. High school graduation.”
“Won’t he get pissed?”
“My car. My decision.”
“Since we’re being practical and all adult, after I drive it across the country, we should sell my car too and buy one dependable ride.”
“See. We’re good at this.”
“’Til we have to agree on which car to buy.”
“Nah. You do that.”
She got up on her toes and kissed him. Lots of tongue, and a couple of bottom lip pulls.
“Yeah.” He squeezed her fabulous ass. “We’re good at this.”
Their apartment
Fiddler’s Rest
Natalia
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“If my heart gets any fonder, my dick would walk itself across the country to be with you.”
“Awww. You say the sweetest things.”
He moved the phone to his crotch, where his prodigious cock was tenting his workout shorts. “Reality, baby.”
“I’m leaving in four days.”
“And it will take you four days to get here. I’ll be a shriveled husk of a man by then.”
She laughed. “Maybe you should skip medical school and go straight to Hollywood, drama queen.”
He moved the phone back to his crotch. “You think this is a joke?”
“I think we’re going to have to get a hotel room for twenty-four hours so everyone in the dorm doesn’t record our reunion.”
“We’re already booked at the NYLO.”
“Of course we are.” She grinned. “Go to sleep, Ivy League. You have an early practice.”
“Burning it off in practice is the only thing keeping me sane.”
“Later.”
“Later, Ace.”
As it turned out, four of the twenty-eight people apprehended during the raid were US citizens. The rest: undocumented. As of three days ago, Demko and his twenty-three buddies were deported back to the Ukraine, and all his assets were in the process of becoming property of the US government. The four citizens pled out and were serving their ten- to fifteen-year terms in four different federal penitentiaries. The next day, Natalia had gone out and bought a real phone.
After calling Gio and talking to him for an hour, she’d called Ethan.
“Berenikoff.”
“Hey, Ethan.”
“Hi, Natalia.”
“I’m sure you heard.”
“I did. Good news all the way around.”
“I have a real phone now. Did my number come up?”
“Got it.”
“Thank you for everything. For obvious reasons, there aren’t many people I trust, but I knew you were solid the first day I met you.”
“I’m blushing.”
“You’re bullshitting, but I appreciate the effort.”
“When you heading out?”
“Friday. I have two finals this week, then it’s back to Brown.”
“Listen, I have a buddy in the Boston office. I’m going to text you his name and number. He’s another one you can trust.”
“Thanks, Ethan. If you’re ever out my way…”
“Same goes. Be happy, girl. You deserve it.”
“Later.”
“Later, Natalia.”
She’d called Eddie and met him at his home where she told him the story as Ethan and the FBI knew it. She also gave him cash for all the deductions he’d taken out since he was paying for a fake person. Eddie, being Eddie, hugged her for like ten minutes. He felt so bad for what she’d been through he refused the money. She left it on the kitchen counter on her way out.
They had agreed that she would tell everyone else at Gusk’s today, during what would be her lunch hour while Eddie minded the store. Tomorrow was her last day at work. She had to study and pack. She hated leaving Eddie in the lurch, but he told her not to worry. He knew of a couple of people who needed a job and were reliable.
When she walked into Gusk’s, her throat closed up. These people had become her family, and the town had embraced her and treated her like one of their own. For over a year they had protected her and kept her safe without even knowing it. Gio had promised that in early January, during Wintersession, they would come back for a couple of weeks. Natalia knew they would always return to Fiddler’s Rest to spend time in the place that had become her refuge.
When one o’clock came, Eddie nodded, and Natalia asked Stan and Mrs. B to go into the breakroom. She asked them to listen so she could get through the whole story, which was really for Mrs. B, ’cause Stan would hardly say anything.
When Natalia was finished, Stan said, “Welp. Good that you’re safe now. Best you be getting back to school where you belong.” She put out her hand and he shook it, then he patted her shoulder and went back to work.
Mrs. B was sniffling and dabbing her nose with a tissue. “My dear, sweet girl. I’m so sorry you had to live through all
that. You’re so brave to have come across the country to a new place and start over.” Natalia sat down next to Mrs. B. “You know, so many people in town care about you.”
“I care about them. You especially have been wonderful to me.” She gave her a big hug. “I love you,” she mumbled into Mrs. B’s cotton shirt that smelled like lemons.
Mrs. B patted Natalia on the back. “And I love you, honey.”
Natalia put her phone number into Mrs. B’s phone, and then they went back to work.
Fifteen minutes later Pearl, from Knit and Pearl’s next door, Hildy Watson, Mrs. B’s neighbor, three of the geezers from the garage, Mrs. Gusk, her neighbor, Felicity, and Rita were all gathered in the entryway of the store.
“Well, I can’t do it,” Rita put both hands on her inflated stomach, “but someone has to have a good-bye party for our girl here. When you leaving, sugar?”
Natalia took a breath to answer, but Mrs. B beat her to it. “Tomorrow’s her last day. She has to pack and study for her finals. She’s driving out on Friday morning.”
“So soon,” Mrs. Gusk muttered. “We’re going to miss you. We miss Gio and he wasn’t here but a few weeks.”
“Amen to that,” Rita said.
“We’ll have the party at my house,” Mrs. B offered. “Sheila, come by after dinner and we’ll go shopping for all the supplies.”
Mrs. Gusk nodded.
“Please don’t fuss, Mrs. B.” Natalia made the request knowing who she was talking to. “You have to work the next day.”
“Pish posh. This is no fuss at all. Just a little get-together.”
Mr. and Mrs. B’s house
Fiddler’s Rest
Natalia
No fuss meant seventy-five people were either crammed inside Mrs. B’s house or were outside on the patio or the lawn. Everyone Natalia knew, and more than a few she’d seen maybe twice, had come. Mostly for Mrs. B’s cooking and three brands of Mexican beer. Tables groaned with food. Mrs. B had put out chips, and accompanying them were four kinds of salsa, guacamole, frijoles, arroz, elote, veggie burritos, carne asada, watermelon, and flan.
When Natalia panned the food for Gio, he groaned. “That’s cruel, baby. Really cold-blooded.”
She laughed. “You’re always starving. Mrs. B would say you have a tapeworm.”
“What I got is shitty food, a hard dick, and no you. I’m in hell.”
“I’ll call you in a while, drama queen. I’m going to make the rounds.”
When she called back, a bunch of people wanted to say hello to Gio, and she didn’t get the phone back for more than half an hour.
“They miss you.”
“We’ll be back in a few months. In the meantime, Mrs. B will keep us up to date with all the crazy shit.” He yawned.
“It’s late there. Go to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Later, Ace.”
“Later.”
When Mrs. B brought out a huge cake and everyone sang, “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” Natalia cried. She’d kept it together all day at work. Until now, she’d made jokes, held Bao, listened to Rita’s detailed pregnancy complaints, and danced with Blake. But that cake and everyone singing did her in. Eddie took her in his arms and swayed until she pulled her shit together.
“In case I haven’t said this before, you are a great guy. I feel so lucky to have worked for you.”
“We worked together, and thanks. You make it easy to be a good guy. Gio is going to love his life.”
“Um, okay. Wow. Even your compliments are outstanding.”
Eddie smiled and hugged her tight.
She said her good-byes, which took forever, then drove back to the apartment Gio had moved them to so he’d know she’d be safe. She went out to the courtyard, lay down on top of one of the picnic benches, and stared at the millions of stars winking in the clear night sky.
Among the many things she’d miss about Fiddler’s Rest, she’d fallen in love with the clear, crisp weather of the high desert, the unbelievable night skies, the coyotes howling, and the hawks screeching. The stark beauty of the foothills and the mountains. No traffic. Almost no emergency vehicles and their noisy sirens.
She sat up. Let herself feel a little wistful, then headed to the apartment.
She needed to get home. To Gio.
Two nights later, walking out of the main building on campus, she was drained. The bio final kicked her ass.
“How was the exam?”
Natalia looked up from turning on her phone. Oh shit.
“Harder than I expected, but I think I did all right.”
He nodded. Once.
“Hello, Mr. Di Caro.”
Even if she hadn’t seen all the photos, she would know this man. He was the original from which his nearly identical son had been copied. Gio was a little taller and more muscular than his father, but the face was almost exactly the same. Mr. Di Caro had a little gray threaded through his black hair, mostly at the temples, and Gio’s nose wasn’t as prominent. Her Gio didn’t look hard. His mother’s DNA had softened his features.
“Natalia.” Mr. Di Caro gestured with an outstretched arm to a bench under a tree about twenty yards from the walkway.
She preceded him, taking note of the bull-size man standing in front of the tree.
“This is Sammy,” Mr. Di Caro said. The stone-faced bodyguard gave her a chin lift. “Please.” Mr. Di Caro indicated for her to sit.
After she’d situated herself and put her backpack on the ground, he unbuttoned his suit jacket that had to have been made for him because the fit was flawless. He lowered his long body onto the bench, leaving about two feet between them. He crossed one leg over the other at the knee, then said, “I heard you had a problem.”
Ah. Okay. Straight to it then. “Had being the operative word.”
“Indeed. You could have come to me.”
She looked at him and took a moment to put her response together. “I don’t want to be disrespectful,” his lips twitched and he almost smiled, “but I’ve learned to rely on myself.”
“Quite competently. You have interesting skills.”
“Needs must, and all of that.”
“Of course.”
“I’m guessing Gio doesn’t know you’re here.”
“He would have challenged me to his version of a duel if he’d found out my intentions before I left. He’s noble that way.”
“You know him well.” And that surprised her.
“Better than he thinks.” He reached inside his jacket and took out his phone. “If I’m not mistaken, he’s wrapping up a late practice.” He touched the phone twice, then handed it to her.
Her eyes widened when she saw Gio and his teammates on the sidelines of a lined-off field flooded with bright lights, a few of them chugging Gatorade. Gio, who looked delicious all sweaty and disheveled, was laughing at something someone said. She loved his laugh.
She handed the phone back to Mr. Di Caro. “Does he know you’re watching him this closely?”
“He will after I leave.” She smiled and dipped her chin. “He knows some of it, but not everything. He’s an astute young man. Little gets past him.” He looked at her intently, and it was a bit weird being regarded by eyes that were almost identical to Gio’s. “I take care of what’s mine. You’re his, and he’s mine. The extrapolation is obvious.”
“Indeed.”
At that, he smiled, and it was a bit lopsided, much like Gio’s. “I thought to save you the headache of driving across the country. I’d like to offer you a lift to Providence.”
She couldn’t help it: he’s making me an offer I can’t refuse.
As if he read her thoughts, his lips twitched again.
“I haven’t finished packing. If you don’t mind waiting…”
“Not at all. I have some business to attend to. We’ll be by the apartment in an hour and a half.”
She’d have to rush, but she’d make it work.
“Thank you. I appreciate
it.”
“You’re his,” was all he said as he stood and walked away, Sammy following about ten feet behind him.
Something Gio had said on his parents’ driveway rang a bell in her head. Everything he does has, at the very least, dual purposes. She figured there were four purposes for this trip. The most important was the hinted-at but unspoken message: Natalia belonged to Don Alessandro now.
Ninety minutes later there was a knock on her door. She looked through the peephole and saw Sammy’s chin and his chest. Big. Guy.
“Hi,” she said as she swung the door open. “My bags are in the bedroom,” she pointed to the five boxes stacked next to the kitchen counter, “and those are all the boxes. The mover is coming tomorrow for the furniture.”
He nodded and grabbed her two duffels and her little overnight roll-y then waited for her to shoulder her backpack, lock the door, and to precede him to the elevator. When they got to the rear of the building, he put the bags down and opened the back door for her. Mr. Di Caro was sitting in the second row on the far side of the bench seat of the enormous blacked-out SUV.
“Natalia.”
She climbed in. Sammy shut the door. “Hello, Mr. Di Caro.” She got the lip twitch. “There are five boxes upstairs.” She put her backpack on the floor. At the same time she was buckling her seatbelt, the SUV’s back door swung up.
“The men who are moving the furniture and your car will take the boxes.” He held out his hand and it took her a couple of beats to figure out what he wanted.
Duh. She bent down, got her keychain out of her backpack, and handed the keys to him. The hatch door closed and a moment later Sammy slid into the driver’s seat.
Mr. Di Caro handed Sammy the keys. “Sammy will make sure everything is taken care of.”
“Thank you.”
Sammy gave her a chin lift.
The ride to the county airport passed in silence. She guessed Sammy spoke about once a week, and Don Alessandro initiated conversation, not the other way around. Which was fine. Tired, excited, and aching to be with Gio, she was not in the mood to try to be good company or a stellar conversationalist.
Earlier, she’d waited until the SUV had driven away from campus before she’d called Gio. He’d been a little stunned his father had come out here to get her but had agreed: the Don was making a statement. A loud one, which meant he approved of her and wanted his son to know it. Convoluted, but apparently, his way.