“All right. Both of you. Into the back of that van.” He motions toward a nearby van with his hand. I wish he’d been the kind of loser to motion with his gun, but apparently he’s got enough sense not to aim in the wrong direction.
He also doesn’t come closer. Why can’t he be one of those people who thinks guns work in close combat? I mean, they do, duh they do, but it’d be way easier to disarm him if he was within stabbing range.
Samantha looks at me, and I nod to her. She releases her hold on my arm and starts to walk across the pavement. There are allsorts of rocks on the ground, but she doesn’t complain about the lack of shoes.
She must really be afraid.
“You first,” Ezio tells Samantha as we approach the van.
I grumble, but I hold back while Samantha gets in. I follow her.
It’s a standard white work van, except the back is empty save for a bench on either side. Heavy glass divides the space between the back and the driver’s seat.
There are cuffs and chains along the inside wall.
Like seatbelts, but deadly if we ever did get into an accident.
Ezio is close, and for a split second I consider leaping out and attacking him.
I can already see how that would go: me with a bullet in my stomach, and Samantha probably dead soon after. Either that or back in the hotel. Oh, and with Asch and River and Blaze going on a suicide mission to avenge me.
That’d be kind of romantic, honestly, but I don’t really want them to die on my account.
I dare Ezio to turn his back on me. Maybe while he’s attempting to cuff me, I can disarm him.
I don’t get that lucky.
Ezio simply shuts the door and locks it. I move back to it and attempt to open it, but the doors only rattle.
“Well, fuck me,” I mutter. I reach into my jeans pocket and pull out the manual lockpicks, except I don’t even see a lock from the inside. I guess because these doors really weren’t meant to be opened from inside.
Samantha glances from me to the front half of the van, then whispers, “What are those? What are you doing?”
“Iwasgoing to pick the locks, but without locks—” I go quiet when the driver’s side door opens and Ezio slides into the car.
“It’s nice of you to waltz through my doorstep,” Ezio says. His voice crackles slightly, and I realize it’s coming through some sort of PA system to the back of the van. “That really made it easier.”
He starts driving, and Samantha quickly sits down on one of the benches. As we drive out of the lot, I think I see the front door open. Is that Blaze coming out? How much time has passed since I parted ways with River?
“Am I allowed to talk again?” I ask Ezio. “Or are you going to shoot us through the glass? Please do. I’d like to see it ricochet back on you.”
“I would rather you shut up, but I get the feeling I can’t stop you.” Ezio runs a red light, which causes a car to honk at him, but I guess he doesn’t care about that.
Goddamn it.
“Y’know, Romano’s a shit name,” I say, loud enough that I hope Samantha’s earpiece picks it up. “You should consider changing it.”
Not that him changing it had made a difference. Nobody remembers the Romanos anyway.
Ezio’s laughter is unexpected. “Youwouldthink so. When did you figure it out?”
“Eh. I asked my dad about you after that weird stunt you pulled at the Halloween party,” I lie.
‘My dad’ sounds so weird to say. Who is that, even? But if I can make Ezio believe Papa knows about him and is going to come after him, maybe that’ll give him second thoughts.
“The stuntIpulled?” Ezio shakes his head. “Why don’t you tell your friend what you did at the party?”
We go over a particularly bumpy road, and I stumble back against the bench on one side.
