The Woman with the Wallet (Costa Family #10)

Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Max

I woke up slumped on the floor, half in my room, half out into the hallway.

For one blissful moment, there was nothing but confusion.

It wasn’t long, though, before the pain started to settle in. Each ache seemed to fight for dominance, my body unable to feel all of it at once.

The throbbing in my jaw, cheek, and chin from being stuck. The migraine screaming behind my eyes from being slammed into the wall. The burn of my split lip. The sharp, stabbing sensation in my shoulder that was either from having my arm wrenched up or the fall to the ground after I’d been knocked out. And, of course, on top of all of that, the burning in my throat, the sensation of gargling glass when I tried to swallow.

I pulled myself up onto my knees in the bedroom doorway, raising my hands to cradle my aching head, my body just rocking back and forth, trying to find some comfort.

I didn’t know how long I stayed there like that.

Eventually, though, I dragged myself to my feet and stumbled toward the kitchen to close and lock the door.

Not that I expected the guy to come back.

He’d gotten what he was after.

My whole body was crying out for medication or ice packs, but all I could seem to manage was to drop down onto the chair Megs had sat at earlier, pressing my palms into my eyes, trying to ease the migraine stabbing behind them.

When there was a knock at the door some time later, I just… knew it was him.

All I could think as I rose from the chair was that I was glad Megs and Nicole weren’t home. The last thing they needed to do was witness what this man was going to do to me when he found out I’d not only stolen his diamonds but gotten them stolen from me on the same damn day.

There was no use not opening the door.

I had locks, but not strong enough to keep a mafia guy out.

Calling the cops would be pointless.

Pretending I was not home? Not an option.

So, I went to the door. I undid the locks. I sucked in a deep breath to try to steady myself for whatever was about to happen.

Then there he was.

Even more stupidly handsome up close.

The dim light in the hallway cast him partially in shadows. Maybe it should have made him look threatening, but I found it made him mysterious.

I was so focused on his face for a moment that I didn’t realize how relaxed his posture was until I spoke his name.

I hated how weak my voice sounded, like I was seconds from crying. Hell, maybe I was. I was so overwhelmed with shock, fear, and pain that I had no idea how I was going to react one second to the next. Even if I wasn’t a crier. Even if the last thing I would ever normally do was cry in front of some guy.

“Max,” he said, brows pinching. “Who did that?”

God, he had a great voice, too.

Both smooth and deep, with just a hint of gravel.

It was the kind of voice that could make anything he said sound sexy.

I was pretty sure if he told me the barometric pressure was at 30, I would slip out of my panties.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I asked, turning and moving back into the apartment, dropping down onto the chair I’d just abandoned, the brass band playing in my head making it impossible to do anything but try to rub the pain away.

Miko followed behind, bringing his scent with him. It was warm and rich—whiskey and tobacco. It made me immediately imagine walking into some speakeasy in the 1920s. Oddly enough, he would fit right in there, providing contraband booze, no doubt.

He closed and locked the door behind him but didn’t come to sit across from me at the table. Instead, he leaned against the counter in the kitchen.

I could feel his gaze on me. But I was too distracted, wallowing in my misery, to wonder what he was thinking.

“If you’re going to shoot me, can you just get it over with? It would be a mercy at this rate,” I added, cradling my head.

“Did you take anything yet?”

All I managed in response was a head shake.

“Okay,” he said, and I heard his footsteps moving through the wrecked apartment. The guy had done a surprisingly thorough job tossing the place in a short amount of time.

I wanted to get it cleaned up before Megs and Nicole got home. But I was pretty sure I’d throw up all over the place if I tried to move right then.

So I stayed exactly where I was.

Eventually, I heard Miko coming back. The fridge opened and closed. So did some cabinets.

And then, something clinked down in front of me.

“Water. Meds. You don’t have the good stuff, but this should help.”

I wasn’t even going to question him on that. I reached for the pills, throwing them back and swallowing a few sips of the water before going back to my rocking and cradling.

To his credit, Miko didn’t shoot me. Or, worse yet, pepper me with a million questions while I was trying to just get through the next moment.

It wasn’t until a solid half hour later that the meds started to take the sharp edges off the headache, and I sat back in the chair to suck in a greedy breath that he said anything.

“Little better?”

“Yeah,” I said with a deep sigh.

“I’m not here to shoot you,” he said as my gaze lifted.

“I dunno. I might shoot me if I were you. With, what, half to three-quarters of a million in the wind?”

To that, he exhaled, nodding. “Sometimes life fucks you in the ass, sugar. Not much we can do about it in the moment.”

“If I’d just gotten to my knife…”

“You’d have pissed him off more. And you probably wouldn’t be breathing. This sucks,” he said, waving toward my face. “But you’ll survive it. Though, three women living alone? What fucking reason could you have for not having a gun?”

“My roommate is a pacifist,” I admitted.

“Defending yourself is a fuckuva lot different than gunning someone down on the street.”

Honestly, I agreed. I’d debated getting one without telling Megs many times. It was my fault she didn’t see things the same way I did. I was the one who’d put those rose-colored glasses on her face. I couldn’t be mad that she saw the world differently because of it.

Hell, she might even agree to it once she got a look at me.

Though, rationally, I knew what she would say. That I needed to get out of dangerous work. That I had to stop lifting wallets.

It wouldn’t be victim-blaming, exactly. But she wouldn’t just jump to the conclusion that we needed more protection—just that I needed to stop being in a dangerous field.

“Why does your head hurt so much?” he asked, still watching me with those inky eyes. Close like this, I saw the scar cutting through one of his brows that I’d missed before.

I waved at my face.

“Yeah, I get that. But did you get shaken? Struck? What?”

“Slammed into the wall. And lights out,” I said, gesturing outward. “Why?”

“Just wondering if you might have a concussion.”

I was queasy. But I was pretty sure that was from the pain. I wasn’t dizzy or disoriented.

“I think I’m fine, all things considered. Can we just get this over with?”

“What do you think is gonna happen?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t imagine some mafia guy is going to get away with losing that much money. And since I was the one who initially stole it…”

“Gonna level with you, if you were a man, you’d probably be in a world of hurt right now. But I don’t put my hands on women.”

“It’s interesting on the rare occasion that sexist double standards actually work in our favor,” I said, sucking in a deep breath. “So then… what? I can’t just get away with this scot-free.”

“Doesn’t look like you got away with anything,” Miko said, watching me.

“I—“ I started, only to hear the key in the lock, the muffled chatter of my roommates. “Shit,” I managed to say before the door flew open, and Nicole immediately reached over to turn on the big light right over my head.

“Max?” Megs gasped, spotting me as Nicole looked past me at the wrecked common area.

“Who are you?” Nicole asked, stiffening next to her girlfriend.

That made Megs look over too. I saw it the moment recognition hit. The way she stiffened. How her jaw went tight.

Because the man was a walking-talking gangster movie. And Megs had always been good at putting the pieces of a puzzle together.

“A friend,” Miko said, making my brows shoot up. “Decided to drop by for a visit. Looks like I just missed the fuck who broke in.”

Megs was dubious, but everything about Miko was calm and casual. Unthreatening. So she rushed to me, her eyes already filling with tears.

“I’m okay,” I assured her, though I was a long way from actually feeling that way.

“Peas. I have frozen peas,” Megs said, rushing to the freezer to bring back three separate bags. She’d been on a pea kick the month before, eating them with every meal. Until, inevitably, she got sick of them. It left us with quite the stash.

So within a minute, I had three of those little microwavable bags of peas in front of me.

“I don’t know where to put one first,” she admitted, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Nicole asked, looking between all of us, confused by the lack of panic.

“They won’t do shit. If they bother to show up on a busy night like this,” Miko said. As if to prove his point, police sirens screamed down the street.

“But what did they get?” Nicole asked.

“Just a wallet,” I said, seeing no reason to lie about that.

“Why? Why not take more?” Nicole asked, likely thinking about their pricey electronics in their bedroom: laptops, tablets, a nice TV.

“I don’t think he expected anyone to be home,” I told her, not sure how true that was. “Or that I’d fight so hard.”

I reached for some of the peas as Megs held one bag to my cheek, seeing that there were red marks on my wrists that I suspected might darken to bruises, given some time.

“Did you get a good look at him?” Nicole asked, likely still thinking about the police, sketch artists, shit like you saw on TV that didn’t often happen the same way in real life. Not over a petty burglary.

My gaze cut to Miko’s, knowing he was thinking the same thing.

I gave him the smallest of nods while I lied to the girls. “No.” Then, because I felt immediate guilt about the lie, I added, “He had a ski mask on.”

“Oh,” Nicole said, sounding disappointed.

Megs, bless her, sensed I had enough of the questions and suggested she and Nicole start setting things to rights.

“Guys, I’m gonna go get some ice pops for my throat,” I said, watching Megs’s eyes go sad again.

“I’ll go get them.”

“No, no. It’s okay. I want some air,” I said.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No!” Megs yelped, rushing forward, making her girlfriend frown.

“Megs, it’s okay,” I told her, giving her a reassuring nod.

“No. We’ll all go,” Megs insisted, casting distrustful glances at Miko.

“Megs, you have something in your teeth,” I said, knowing Nicole and Miko were likely confused, but that Megs would get it.

When you were two girls alone in the world, it was important to have a little code. Things you could say that would let the other one know that something is okay, kind of shady, or outright scary.

For them, ‘You have something in your teeth’ was one that assured the other that, despite appearances, things were okay.

If she’d said something along the lines of ‘Crazy weather we’re having,’ then Megs would know shit was not good.

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“Yeah. Go check that out,” I said. “I’ll be back in a little bit. I have my phone,” I told her, reaching to grab it, then wave it at her. “Ready?” I asked, looking at Miko.

“Yeah,” he agreed, reaching for his own phone, shooting off a text.

With that, we moved out into the hallway together, then waited at the elevator, both of us ignoring the concerned looks from a group of passing women.

It wasn’t until the doors slid shut that anyone spoke.

“What does Megs know?” Miko asked.

“That I stole your wallet,” I told him.

“Not about the diamonds?”

“God, no. She would have lost her shit.”

“And her girlfriend?”

“Doesn’t know anything about my little… hobby.”

“You pick pockets as a hobby?”

“It used to be a full-time hustle,” I admitted. “Back when Megs and I were on the street. But I’ve branched out now.”

“To what?” he asked, but the elevator car stopped at another floor, letting a rowdy crowd of twenty-somethings get on and preventing any further conversation until we finally made it to the lobby.

“He’s with me,” Miko said when I spotted a man all in black waiting just outside.

The man in question didn’t look like a Made man to me. He was tall and a scrappy kind of fit in black jeans, a black hoodie, and Timbs.

He was handsome, with great bone structure, dark hair, and one and a half brown eyes.

Yep.

Half.

The other eye was half brown and half green.

It was a cool feature, but I imagined someone working in crime hated having such a distinctive look.

“Venezio, good timing,” Miko said, shaking the other man’s hand. “Wanna take a drive?” he asked, looking at me. “Go somewhere that people won’t be staring at you?”

“Where’s that?” I asked, immediately suspicious.

“Don’t worry,” Miko said, shooting me a smirk as he moved to open the back door of the car for me. “It’ll have lots of exits.”

Maybe it wasn’t the smart thing to go with this random mafia guy who was short half a million dollars because of me.

But he’d gotten me medicine and had given me time and silence when I’d needed it. That didn’t seem like the actions of someone who was going to kill me in the back of his car.

Even if it was, it was too late.

I was sliding in.

Miko was moving in behind me.

Venezio got in the driver’s seat.

And we were pulling away from my apartment building.