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The light turns green and he starts driving again.
Chapter28
War
Two months pass. Evander’s not kind of patient, but I manage to push him off until, finally, I agree to meet with him at another restaurant in Chicago. This time, it’s an Italian place, and Kazan’s with a table filled with other gangsters, all of them eating way too much and laughing with their mouths open, pouring wine down their throats like they’re feeding at a trough.
“Boys,” Evander says as I approach. “Our guest of honor is here. Get him a chair.”
One of the gangsters vacates his spot beside Evander and I sit in his place. I’m intensely aware of all the men staring at me, their expressions ranging from openly hostile to openly bored.
“I have a gift for you, Mr. Kazan,” I say and he laughs loudly.
“Call me fucking Evander. And lucky for you, I love gifts. What did you bring me today, War?”
I take out a check and slide it over to him. Evander’s eyes widen in surprise as he waves the check in the air like he’s trying to find out if it’s some kind of joke. “Is this for real? All of it?”
“Every penny. You’ll have to figure out a reasonable way to cash that though.”
Evander bursts out laughing and slaps my shoulder hard before shoving the check at the man to his right. It disappears into the man’s jacket, and suddenly all the angry glares and boredom disappears as Evander pours me wine and raises a toast in my honor.
“To paying your debts and saving your father’s life,” Evander says. “Let’s pray you never have to do it again, though I’ll gladly take more of your money.”
The men laugh and I drink. The wine’s good, and maybe it’s the congenial atmosphere or the smoke in the air, or maybe the alcohol goes right to my head, but an idea bursts into my mind. I lean closer to Evander and speak softly. “Actually, I was hoping for a favor.”
His eyebrows raise. “A favor? Well, shit. You just gave me a two-million-dollar check plus reasonable interest. What kind of favor?”
When I tell him, he laughs all over again and snaps his fingers. One of his lackeys comes over and Evander tells him to go to a nearby shop owned by a guy named Giuliano and ask for the piece up front, he’ll know the one. After that, Evander pours more wine, they order more food, and I listen to gangster after gangster tell stories about shakedowns, violent confrontations, and hilarious altercations. I laugh and drink and enjoy myself, at least until the lackey comes back with a brown paper bag.
“Here you go,” Evander says. “Your favor. I won’t be so crude as to discuss payment, but—” He tilts his head to the side, grinning like a shark.
“I’ll bring cash next time,” I say, which makes everyone burst out laughing again.
A bottle of wine, more pasta than I ever wanted in my entire life, and more mob stories later, and I head outside. It’s a nice day in Chicago, lots of sun, moderately warm. I head into the coffee shop two blocks away and find Melody sitting where I left her, sunk down low in a booth with her laptop in front of her, scrolling through pictures of Bomber she uploaded to Instagram.
“Sorry that took so long,” I say and sit down across from her. She closes the laptop lid and blinks at me.
“You’re done? It’s over?”
“It’s over.” I put the brown paper bag down in front of her. “Except for this. I owe them for this.”
“War. What did you do?”
“This is my debt to pay back. Don’t you worry about it.”
“Seriously. War. What did youdo?”
“I made the easiest decision of my life.” I reach into the bag and get down on one knee right there at the edge of the table. Her eyes widen in confusion. “I want to swear something to you, Melody. I swear I will never lie to you again. I might lie to other people, but never to you, no matter what, no matter how small. I love you, I need you, and you will always have the real me, no stories, no half-truths. Everything, no matter how ugly.”
“War,” she whispers, hands over her mouth. “What are you doing?”
I flip open the box. The ring is much nicer than I expected—simple, elegant, probably insanely expensive. The diamonds sparkle in the low cafe light and people are staring, but fuck them. All I can see is Melody.
“I love you. I want to love you until the day that I die. Marry me, Melody.”
She holds a trembling hand out. “Yes,” she says and laughs once sharply. “Yes, I will!”
I slide the ring on. It’s big—but it slips down and she cries as I pull her to her feet and kiss her hard.
