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“I have a pickup to make and don’t have time to drop you off.”
“Okay.” I set my purse at my feet, curious about where we were going.
He side-eyed me as he drove through a part of the city I didn’t recognize. Turn after turn, and I was completely lost. Ten minutes later, he parked in front of a pawn shop that already had the metal gates down.
“You stay here.”
“Okay.” I shrugged and looked out the tinted windows at the three men standing under the neon sign.
Frankie paused with his hand on the handle. “That’s it? Okay? You’re not going to argue? This feels too easy.”
“If you say so.” I took out my phone, eager to check for an email from Malcolm.
“I don’t trust this,” he mumbled but still got out of the car, the locks sounding behind him.
Sure enough, buried in between coupons and sale ads was an email from Malcolm.
Found them. Details to follow.
“Amazing.” Tears burned at the back of my eyes. I tapped my foot, staring at the pawn shop as if I could draw Frankie out with the power of thought.
As the minutes ticked by, I had to accept that my mind wasn’t that powerful. Bored as hell, I answered a few emails and texted Adriana.
ADRIANA: I’ll call you tomorrow.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
The tiny interior of the foreign sports car left my legs cramped and my toes tingling in my heels. Try as I might, no amount of shaking would fix it. Despite my assurances to stay in the car, I was tempted to get out. When I was two seconds away from being the pain in the ass Frankie always accused me of being, he walked out of the alley between the Golden Pawn Shop and New Nails Nail Salon carrying a duffle bag. He tossed it in the trunk and got in the driver’s seat.
“Took you long enough.”
“Sorry. These old guys can be chatty.”
“What’s in the bag?”
Frankie pulled onto the street, not answering me, which in Frankie meant, “none of your fucking business.”
Such a sweet guy.
He drove across the city toward the river and away from home. The farther we went, the darker it got outside. “Where are we going?”
“The drop,” he said as he pulled into a vacant lot next to a warehouse. One lone floodlight illuminated the front of the building. “Stay here.”
“No.” I took off my seatbelt. “My leg is asleep, and if you get to gossiping in there, it might have to be amputated. Let’s go.” Sliding my phone into the pocket of my dress, I didn’t wait for him as I got out of the car.
“Motherfucker,” Frankie hissed as he went to the trunk and then rushed to catch up. “Keep quiet and try to make yourself less . . . noticeable.”
“No way, no how, baby cakes. This girl was born to shine.”
“You’re going to get me killed.”
I gasped and looped my arm through his. “Never.”
Frankie held open a rusty metal door, and we went inside. My eyes slowly adjusted to the dimly lit bay while Frankie walked ahead of me. “Carmine here?” He threw the duffle bag over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Up in the office. Who’s that?” A short guy leaning against the wall gestured to me. “You know Carmine doesn’t like women in his warehouse.”
“I think he’ll make an exception for the boss’s wife.”
