Slowly, I pulled out the wad of cash and the plastic GA card that gave me permission to drive. He moved them. And that wasn’t the only surprise. There were more bills in the folded stack.
Dropping beside my suitcase, I ripped the zipper open, pushed the clothes aside, and peeled back the lining.
The stash was still hidden.
Which meant Nico had added to the small sum in my pocket before transferring it to the clean clothes. Did he miss the keys? I pulled the shorts on, forgoing underwear in my haste, and searched the bed again.
And then the floor.
I checked the bathroom counter for good measure.
No keys.
My gut told me that wasn’t a coincidence. Chewing on my cheek, I tugged a tee over my head and went off to see if my keys were, in fact, missing…or if my suspicion was correct. Rushing into the living room, I discovered a different beast flipping through the pages of a book.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
Luigi looked over his book. “Well, good morning to you too, sunshine. Or, good afternoon, rather.”
“Luigi!” I shouted. “I’m fixin’ to blow a gasket. Where the hell is Nico?”
I was treated to a wolfish grin. All teeth. “He’s workin’, sweetheart.”
I gaped at him. “Mocking my accent now?”
He shrugged. “It’s a hard one, but I’m getting’ good, ain’t I?”
“Fuck you.”
He shuddered. “No thanks.”
If my eyes rolled any harder, they were going to fall out of my head. “I can’t find my keys.”
Casually crossing one leg over the other, Luigi flipped the page in his book. “Oh, yeah, they’ve been confiscated.”
My heart sank. I knew it. I freakingknewit!
“He can’t do this to me,” I breathed, fighting the rising panic. “It’s my car.”
“Don’t worry, Dommy-boy didn’t drive it,” the bastard chuckled.
I raked my hands through my hair. That wasn’t what I was talking about! But how much did this friend know? Enough that he was babysitting me.
Luigi closed his book. “There’s food in the fridge. It smelled so good when the delivery service brought it that we ordered another round and ate the first batch.”
At the thought of food, my stomach protested loudly. “I have places to be, and—”
“You’d better eat it before I do.” Luigi tapped his book against the couch. “And you’re not going anywhere, Rae. Not unless it’s back to the house.”
No,no!This was a disaster. I didn’t have a spare set of keys for the Camaro. While I could hotwire it, my tools were back at the house. Technically, a manual transmission could be rolled down a hill and started, but that was a two-person job, and it would take the apocalypse for Luigi to volunteer to help me.
“Fine!” I seethed and stormed to the fridge. I ripped the door open, and while it was virtually empty, there were takeout containers stacked neatly. Upon opening them, my mouth instantly watered.
Home cookin’.
I set the spread on the island. There was more here than I could eat, despite my famished state. I began to dive into the cold brisket while the grits warmed in the microwave.
Luigi let me start eating, but the moment the food started to take the edge off, he prowled over and began picking at the containers.
