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Chapter 1
Ellie
On this dark, chilly September night, the trees whisper. My community of townhomes was supposed to offer some sort of comforting protection. But to me? It’s just more shadows to be frightened of.
At this hour, my grey Toyota Camry is nearly invisible. Clicking it unlocked makes the backseat lights stir to life. No one hiding there to stab me. I breathe out a sigh of relief. You might think me paranoid, but that’s how Marco – my ex – was murdered in cold blood one year ago on a similar ominous eve.
I found his body.
He lays there, sprawled, no matter what time of day or what car I’m about to enter. But that’s the price of being born into a family of thugs. You can’t escape no matter how hard you try.
Starting the car, those thoughts turn to Apollonia being blown to smithereens in The Godfather. Then I laugh. I’m being ridiculous now.
I’ve changed my name, my hair, put brown contacts in to hide my green eyes. A Rigiano no longer. The mob has to move on and find someone else to leverage for my brother’s crimes.
My neighbor waves as his Golden Retriever relieves itself on my lawn, and I smile back. He’s older, much older, and showed interest in me on more than one occasion. Life has been so barren since Marco… I almost envisioned him with his clothes off once. Fit enough. But the grey pubes ruined the image entirely.
Once out of the community, it’s a right onto the open road for my monthly trip to the nearby Dunkin’ Donuts ten minutes away. Upstate New York is desolate compared to the city, but it’s yet another price to pay for some semblance of peace.
You might be wondering – if I’m not a thug – why am I hoarding a tote full of cash and driving it down to a coffee shop? Easy. I was technically an accessory to murder by hearing the gunshots of my brother’s pistol eight months ago, and I still owe the dirty cop who destroyed the evidence.
And by ‘destroyed,’ he meant ‘held onto a copy for himself in case I ever act out of line.’
I’m not an idiot.
The parking lot is mostly empty as I pull in, and Paul Rickard is already sitting in a corner seat – back to the wall. It was an old cop trick so no one could get the jump on him from behind. I thought it was stupid, because a thug could just snipe him through the glass if they wanted. But that was the Rigiano in me. I huff, shut off the car, and marinate in the silence.
Last payment to go. Then I’m free. Finally.
Marty’s crimes can’t haunt me any longer.
Paul’s reading the newspaper. I mean, who still does that? He’s pretending he didn’t notice me pull up, but that jerk-off notices everything, and knows his payday has arrived.
One more deep breath to steel myself. I’d been counting down the seconds for eight months now. It’s here. I can taste it. After this, I can do whatever I want. Maybe even splurge at the mall, or something normal people do. Not just work day in and day out to vomit all my money to crooked payoffs.
I get out and shut the door, looking over my shoulder like always.
My flats vibrate every time they touch the asphalt. I always walk heavy when I’m nervous. The door chimes my entrance, and Paul pretends to see me for the first time. Salt-and-pepper hair, crisscross scar on his cheek crinkling, defined jaw free of any facial hair.
“Jade Harper. You look more beautiful every time I see you.” He stays in his seat despite the pleasantries.
It’s a power move. He thinks me blind to it. The lout should know better, considering I grew up as a mafia princess.
I sit down and say nothing, and his smile drops.
“Alright then. All business today, huh?” He taps the table. “Phone, out. Now.”
I spread my arms. “Left it in the car. I know the drill. No pockets, tight clothes.”
His lips twist.
“What? You going to pat me down in front of the barista?” I smile nervously. Paul’s known my family since forever, but he always made me uneasy. He was hot, is hot, despite the age gap. And I hate that I find a slime ball like him attractive. The way he tilts his head when he speaks, his cold dark eyes never wavering. It makes me squirm, but I’ll never show it.
He eases up and relaxes against the back of the chair, his leather jacket scrunching. “Just habit. You know, I never asked you why you chose that name. Is it because you want to remind yourself what you’re hiding behind that mask?” He points to his own eyes.
With a huff, I kick the tote bag closer to him under the table. I’m not in the mood today. I just want to start my new life and be normal.
“I don’t know if I ever told you, Jade, but you look really good with pitch-black hair and dark eyes.”
