Page 19 of Captivated

In another room, he found a small kitchen and dining area. Beyond that, a private bedroom with a four-poster bed, and an attached bathroom the same size as most of the other rooms. There was even a safe hidden behind a mirror in the bedroom, although it was tightly closed.

Joe didn’t have any interest in that, anyway.

Coming back out to the main room, Joe dropped his bag onto the loveseat, and moved toward the windows. Staring out below, he found the Manhattan street was busy. Lots of people, and lots of shit happening.

Nothing unusual.

Good for him, though.

If his goal was to stay under the radar during his time in New York, then Manhattan was a great place to be. A melting pot of people and tourists, it was unlikely anyone would be able to pick his face out in a crowd.

He would go ahead and count the view and room as a bonus.

At least for now.

“Home sweet home,” Joe muttered.

Turning away from the window, he shrugged off his coat, and reached for the phone sitting on a nearby decorative table. Since he was already here, he might as well make a call down to the dining room and get his dinner—

It was only the ringing of his own phone that stopped Joe from making that call. And not the burner phone that Johnathan Marcello had dropped off earlier, but his own that he brought along. Moving to the couch where he dropped his bag, Joe found the phone, and took a quick look at the caller ID before he bothered to pick it up.

D, it read.

His father.

Joe picked up the call with a, “Hey, Dad.”

“Son. Why aren’t you answering Cory’s calls?”

“Because you fucking know what he wants,” Joe replied. “And what he wants is to be here with me, and not in Chicago where he needs to stay while I get this done.”

Damian sighed. “He’s driving me crazy.”

“Better you than me.”

Only a dry chuckle answered Joe back.

Truth was, he loved his brother to the ends of the earth and back. Only being a year apart in age, the two had practically grown up like twins might. Constantly together, and stuck at the goddamn hip. Joe was a little more reserved than Cory, but sometimes that worked out, too. He looked out for his brother, and kept him levelheaded. Cory, on the other hand, pushed Joe to take a few risks once in a while.

It … worked.

Yeah, that was a good way to put it.

“I’ll give him a call,” Joe said after a minute, “but he’s still not coming here. You know Cory wouldn’t be able to keep his head down, and not draw attention to himself.”

“Not even if he tried,” Damian grumbled.

It was funny.

Because it was true.

“Oh, is that Joe?” he heard his mother say in the background. “Give me the phone, Damian.”

“Lily, I am trying to—”

The phone crackled before his mother’s voice came on the line, and her sweet, happy tone made Joe smile. Out of everything back in Chicago, he probably would end up missing his mother the very most.

Italian boys and their mothers.