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TWO YEARS LATER...
You’d think gettingcomfortable where you live would be a good thing.
Building relationships.
Putting down roots.
All the things most people strive to attain.
You’d be wrong.
Getting comfortable is just another way of saying you’re becoming complacent. Complacency kills.
George taught me that.
Building relationships makes it that much harder when you have to grab your ever-present go bag and get the hell out of Dodge. Or in my case, out of Kroydon Hills. I know I’m being paranoid. I really do. But that doesn’t make the conversation I’m about to have any less real. Or the go bag sitting in my back seat any less necessary.
Sam Beneventi kept the promise he made to me nearly two years ago.
He’s helped me stay off anyone’s radar.
Off the grid and out of trouble.
My security systems have been upgraded.
I’ve essentially got my own personal group of bodyguards for how often Sam’s crew stops by the shop for coffee. My assumptions were right. Sam’s family business is less than legitimate. But who am I to judge?
He’s helped me stay safe, and he’s never asked me for anything in return. In the weeks following the shooting at Annabelle Sinclair’s house, he started dropping by my shop for a cup of coffee and what has since become his favorite double chocolate chip cookies. Although he’ll never admit it, Sam Beneventi has a sweet tooth. And I’ve thoroughly enjoyed feeding it.
I guess you could say a friendship, albeit a forced one, developed from there. This tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome man who probably exists in so many people’s nightmares somehow became my closest friend. He may also exist in a few of my daydreams, but that’s another secret I’ll take to the grave.
Because of our shared circumstance, I was able to talk to him about things I couldn’t share with Belle. Or with anyone really. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I don’t want to put their lives in danger.
No matter how much I wished there was a way I could share more with Belle.
With the girls who I now loosely call friends.
In all these months, Sam has never scared me.
Sure, I’ve worried for him when he’d share what he could about things going on in his world. But he’s never made me worry for my own safety. Until he called me thirty minutes ago and asked me how quickly I could come to his restaurant.
Nothing good ever follows a call like that.
Tonight is one of those muggy September nights I’ve come to realize is common for the East Coast. The damp air feels thick and heavy against my skin even though the scorching temperatures started to drop when the sun went down a few hours ago. Just my luck, the air conditioner in my car crapped out on me yesterday, and I really don’t want to tap into my emergency fund to fix it right now. When I finally gave in and bought a car, I went sensible. A car that wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. Now I’m wishing I’d listened to Sam and gotten something a little newer.
Who knows? After this meeting, I might not care about how hot my car is.
I might not be in this state much longer.
I’ve known where I’d go next since I decided to move to Kroydon Hills.
Always be prepared.
My lawyer has very specific instructions should I have to leave.
He knows what to do.
He just doesn’t know who I really am.
