by Nina Park
Outside, he ripped open the packaging on one of the phones and called a number he'd memorized years ago. It wasn't to Nick's phone or even his burner phone. It was to a friend named Lucas. A long time ago, Vincent and Lucas had been running drugs for a different branch of the Costa family, and one night a buyer decided they didn't want to pay. Things had gone sideways, and Lucas had taken a bullet in the thigh. Vincent had dragged him out under heavy fire before the heat for the drop had come in and dealt with the problem. The spot where Lucas had tried to hold up was riddled with shells later; there was no question that he would have been killed if he'd tried to hide there longer.
After that, Lucas had bought his way out of the life and started a real estate business with the contacts he'd made over the years. He and Vincent had kept in touch, and he owed Vincent a favor. As long as it wasn't too major, he would come through.
This was going to be on the significant side though; after this, Lucas would probably consider their account settled. Vincent could live with that – if it helped him get clear of this mess, and get Alina out with him.
Lucas took a while to answer, probably surprised at the strange number coming up on the caller ID. Eventually, he did pick up.
"Who is this?" His tone wasn't sharp, but it was clear that no nonsense would be allowed.
"Your favorite cousin," Vincent replied.
When he and Lucas had hung around, Lucas had always been cracking jokes about that old movie with The Karate Kid stuck in jail, and his cousin the lawyer. It took a moment, but when Lucas spoke again, he could hear a tone of recognition.
"Hey, cuz," Lucas said. There was the sound of footsteps, then a door closing. "Long time no talk. What's doing?"
"I'm looking for a place to crash for a bit. Not too long, I don't think, but I need to be away from company for a few days. Wondered if you could help a man out."
Lucas went quiet. Vincent had a moment of worry that Lucas was setting up to turn him down, but then he heard a keyboard clacking.
"Minute," Lucas said. "Anything particular you need?"
"I'm not alone."
Lucas gave a low laugh. "Always a lady's man, cousin."
Vincent felt his cheeks heat up. "It's not like that this time."
"It never is."
"No." Vincent didn't mean to let so much heat into his voice, but it was there anyway. "It's not like that this time. I've been with this girl a few months now. It started as a job. It's not now. I need us both safe."
Lucas didn't apologize, but then, he didn't really need to. He just kept clacking away, and then he made a grunt of approval. "Good enough. Got a place. Model home in a neighborhood that died when the construction company went bankrupt, and no one's picked it up yet. Damn mess – lost my shirt. But the house is solid. Got a pen for the address?"
Vincent typed it into the GPS on his phone while Lucas dictated the address.
"I'll meet you there with a key. How far out do you think you are?"
Vincent looked at the directions and made some calculations. "An hour, maybe two."
"It's a plan. I'll see you there. Is there anything else I can do?"
Vincent thought for a moment. "Does the place have power? Stuff like that?"
"Yeah. I'm still trying to move it, and I have to be able to turn on the ceiling fans and show that the fridge works. It's not super convenient, but you can have a hot shower and see while you're walking around at night."
"If you've got some basic groceries, that would be helpful."
Lucas let out a low whistle. "You really are taking care of this girl, huh?"
"By keeping her fed? Taking care of someone is more than that." Who the hell was he, saying feelingsy shit like that?
"Keeping someone around long enough to make sure they get fed is pretty new behavior for you, cuz. But I'm glad you're doing it. I hope she's worth it."
"She is," Vincent said. He couldn't help looking through the windshield at the woman curled up on the passenger's seat, her head leaning on the window, her mouth a little open, trusting him to keep her safe. To keep her baby safe. Just trusting him. "She really is." He waited for Lucas to harass him, but it didn't come. "Thank you, man," he added instead. "I know this squares things between us—"
"Hell no it doesn't," Lucas said. His tone was absolutely scornful, catching Vincent off guard. "You saved my life, idiot. That's not the kind of debt a man pays off."
Something hung in the air then, and it made Vincent's guts twist up just a little bit. That wasn't a debt a man paid off to the Costas. The Costas were a lot of things and demanding furious and calculating adherence to their code of honor was a huge portion of everything they were. Lucas wasn't just doing this for him; he was doing this because Vincent was still attached to the Costas, and frankly, pissing off the Costas wasn't something a smart entrepreneur did. Especially not in the field of real estate, where it took very little to take a firm from making it to crashing and burning.
Vincent had undoubtedly benefited from his close relationship with the Costa family before, but this was the first time it had stuck in his throat just a little bit. Although he didn't know how to say it aloud, what he wanted in his life was Alina and the baby. He was more and more sure of it. But if he walked away from the Costas – if they even let that happen – what would he have to offer? He didn't have the right kind of experience for private security, and he'd never worked a different job in his life.
He pushed away those thoughts. He set a time with Lucas and got back in the car. Alina stirred a little as the engine turned over, but by the time they were in motion again, she was lulled back into sleep. Maybe it wasn't much, but he was going to take care of her as well as he could for as long as she would let him.
No matter what that meant for him.
Chapter Eleven
Alina dreamed of driving. Not the exciting sort – running from bad guys or taking tight corners on mountain roads. Just driving. Smooth, steady motion over miles of interstate. It was hard to know when the dream stopped and when she woke up; the light was breaking as the sun rose, and Vincent was still driving.
"We should pull over so you can rest," she said, shifting and trying to stretch out the kinks in her back. "I can drive a little while."
"No need," Vincent said. "We're almost there."
"Where?"
"The place we're going to hole up for a little bit. Get the measure of things and see what's what."
He sounded confident and calm. She was pretty sure he would sound confident and calm as a tsunami rushed toward them, or as lava flowed downhill into their living room. It was less comforting than it should have been. She glanced at the road signs and recognized the names.
"You drove us back into the city?"
"It makes sense. They're looking for us outside the limits anyway; they somehow tracked us to the hotel, whether Nick sent them or Dez did. Or someone else entirely. Being close means we're probably somewhere they've already looked, and it means we can try to figure out what the hell is going on."
Alina shifted around, realizing that she badly needed to pee. Before she could really say anything, however, Vincent pulled the vehicle into the right-hand lane, signaling for the next rest stop.
"So, what's the plan, then?"
"I don't have a fancy one," he replied. "Talk to people, try to figure out what's going on. Stop the bad guy, help the good guy. Remember it's all relative."
That wasn't even remotely helpful. "What's the concrete plan?"
He nodded. "Hole up in a safe space a friend is going to loan us. I'm going to start digging into this woman; maybe if we know where she came from, we'll have an easier time figuring out what she wants, or what she's up to."
"And if it's Nick?"
Vincent sighed and shook his head. Alina couldn't really blame him. Nicholas Amato had been in or near the Costa family all of his life. The capo had been loyal to her father forever. It wasn't that men like that couldn't be turned; it had been drilled into her since a yo
ung age that every man had a price. But it was less likely than a newcomer. It was part of why people who had generations of experience in a family were so highly valued. They had connections, history, and a life built up within the Costas. They were less likely to decide that a life outside the family was worth the bother. They were less likely to decide that some slight should be dealt with either by the law or by other families. They understood how to work within the established hierarchy to get their pound of flesh.
But someone like Nick would also know how to cast suspicion on a newcomer. This woman, Dez; Alina had never heard of her. There wasn't anyone within her father's circles who went by that name; if her full name was Desdemona, which seemed likely, that wasn't any more familiar to her. And if she was an outsider – Alina had to wonder how her father had met her. The Costa family was so big and so well established that he didn't generally need to meet outsiders, and her father wasn't the sort to take a shine to a pretty waitress or a busty dancer. But two years and Alina hadn't heard a word. None of it made any sense at all.
Vincent pulled off at the rest stop, and Alina rushed inside to pee. She ached everywhere, and for one long moment, she thought of the offer Vincent had made. He was right, after all; she'd never had any problem attracting attention when she wanted it. Finding some billionaire to take care of her wouldn't be hard. She could live her life as a sugar baby, or at least build up enough capital to take care of the rest of her life that way. It would be harder with a kid, but not impossible. Some rich people wanted a ready-made family, and Alina could provide that.
But was it what she wanted? For the first time, she wondered about her decision to walk away from her family. The Costas wasn't just her father; the Costas were her siblings, her aunts and uncles, her friends. She'd met people in college she'd liked fine, but there was something different about them. There wasn't the shared experience of waiting for parents to come home from jobs they couldn't talk about. The mix of privilege from being attached to a group that no one wanted to touch and the fear that it would all be taken away if someone said the wrong word. Did she want to spend the rest of her life trying to hide her past? Never mentioning the parts of her childhood that had mattered?
And if she let it be known that her child was Vincent's... he would rise in the ranks of the family just by proxy. Some cousins had been groomed for years to be Frank Costa's heir, and that was fine, but she could see Vincent playing the role of capo. She certainly wouldn't have any problem stepping out of the role of treasured princess; she'd never quite felt comfortable with all of the attention.
No. Vincent could try as hard as he wanted to push her away; he would find out just how stubborn she could be if he tried hard enough.
Finished, she washed her hands and went back out to the car. Vincent was waiting for her and passed her a sandwich and some snacks just as her stomach rumbled.
"We're about an hour out," he said. "Let's go."
***
Alina had curled up on the seat again, watching a show on the tablet she'd grabbed as she was throwing things into a bag. Vincent had pulled off the interstate around fifteen minutes ago and was steering into gradually more urban parts of the suburbs. Finally, he pulled into the sort of neighborhood where horror movies were set.
There were clearly delineated lots, poured foundations, some framing... and one perfect house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The house was glass and stone, a modern creation with angular roofs and blocky shapes. It was immediately endearing in a way she wasn't quite sure she understood. It also looked like the kind of house that ended up haunted because it was built on the remains of a witch's grave.
"What the hell?"
Vincent glanced at her, and she gestured at the rest of the neighborhood, trying to take in the oddly half completed homes and total lack of construction equipment that might be finishing them.
"According to my friend, the builders went bankrupt, and no one wanted to finish the project. This was the model home, and Lucas is still trying to move it. It's not getting much traction because who wants to live in the middle of all of this."
"Us, apparently," Alina said.
Her voice was low enough that it was mostly to herself, but Vincent gave her a wry grin, so he obviously had heard. That small smile was enough to warm her down to her toes. He didn't smile often, and she'd already started to treasure every one.
Girl, you are in way too far, she thought to herself with a sigh. She had no idea what he wanted, not really. He seemed to be enjoying playing house with her, but that was worlds different from actually trying to build a life. She needed to pull back, hard, until she could figure out where they were. Somehow. But how did you pull back after you'd decided to have a kid with someone, unplanned or not?
There was a fancy Audi in the driveway of the house when Vincent pulled in. The house was lit up as if someone was already home. Alina reached for the handle on the passenger door, but Vincent waved at her, telling her to stay inside. It felt odd, like a drug deal in a movie, but all that she saw exchanged when Vincent walked forward to meet his friend was keys and a handshake. The friend didn't so much as look at her as he got back in his car and pulled back out of the driveway. She didn't know how to feel about it, other than strange.
Only once the Audi had turned out of the cul-de-sac did Vincent gesture for her to get out of the car. She did slowly, stretching out the aches and cramps that came up so much more quickly now than they had before. Vincent reached out a hand for her as she walked towards him, and that felt surprisingly good. She threaded her fingers through his and let him lead her up the walkway towards the house.
"Should I carry you over the threshold?" His voice was light, but there was something else in his eyes. She wanted to say yes, but after she'd just lectured herself on pulling back, she thought better of it.
"Next time." She tried to keep her tone just as light as his, but it was hard. His face fell just a little bit before he pulled it back into a neutral expression. He didn't say anything, though, as he turned the key and pushed the door open.
The house was gorgeous, Alina saw that right away. It was fully decorated, which made sense. The home would have been the one that the architect and builders showed off to try and entice prospective home buyers into the neighborhood. She wondered why the neighborhood had fallen apart; there was no way this home hadn't done its job, so she had to assume the builders had mismanaged the funds or undersold the homes to the point where they couldn't keep the work up.
The walls were all painted in a clean, soft white, which let the palette in the entry hall and front room become deep and warm. The entryway was all deep blues and dark wood, with a small table to put down your keys and a mirror to check your hair before you left. A small rug with a swirling geometric pattern stretched out from the door. The front room itself was done in more reddish shades, warm burgundy and accents of aqua blue brought out the same bright, modern feel as the home's exterior.
"Check it out," Vincent said behind her. "I'm going to go grab the bags."
Alina took his invitation; she would have, even if he hadn't said so.
The kitchen was down the main hallway and had a much lighter style than the front of the home. The cabinets were a light wood, the walls a soft, sea glass green, and the accents were a light, coordinating cream. The appliances were sleek and new – an induction stove, a smart fridge, and a built-in microwave. The center of the kitchen was taken up by an island that had a built-in chopping block and cutting surface, with a small breakfast nook nested in the corner of the room.
There was a door with a stairway heading down; she assumed into a basement. She took the stairs, heading up; right now, the basement would just creep her out and keep her thinking of evil clowns and haunting witches. She could see other rooms on the ground floor, with quick glances showing her a home office and a rec room, but she wanted to see what was upstairs.
The rooms there made her sigh with happiness. Two bedrooms, one decorated as a nursery, the other a
s a master suite. The nursery was carefully gender neutral and shockingly adorable; there was a white wood crib, a quilt hung over the side, a changing table, and a little mobile based off the cosmos. But it was the master suite that really took her breath away.
The walls were a soft greige shade which should have felt cold; instead, it felt like the perfect backdrop for the brown and cream headboard. The puffy comforter carried the same colors but included deep turquoise swirls. The wood was all dark and heavy, anchoring the room in a way that made her want to lay down and rest.
Through the door, she saw an attached bathroom that was more opulent than most master baths she'd ever seen. A sunken tub with air jets, a shower stall, a clean white vanity. God, everything here was gorgeous.
She heard footsteps behind her and turned to give Vincent a smile. "Can we just stay here forever?"