Chapter Fourteen #2
So it was damn sure my job to keep her safe from this point on.
“It is.”
“Venezio—”
I would never figure out what she was going to say. Because right then, a group of five riders stood up and broke into a pretty solid rendition of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”
By the time the makeshift carolers were finished, the train was pulling into the station.
“Where are we going?” Steph asked, lagging a few steps behind. I thought she was choosing not to follow. But when I turned, I found her flexing her feet in her shoes.
It had to be hell running in those fucking things after a night of already being on her feet. She was probably blistering like crazy.
I glanced at the signs, orienting myself, trying to figure out what to do with her.
My apartment was out.
But if this fuck followed me to her apartment, that was out too.
I could go to Cosimo.
Or maybe Miko.
Even as I thought of them, though, I knew they weren’t options. Cosimo had taken the family to the mountains to decompress before the holiday.
And Miko? Miko was spending time with his giant-ass family.
“Venezio?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “But let’s get above ground.”
Steph made a barely audible whimper but moved along with me, each step making her wince.
“God, I haven’t been all the way out here in ages,” Steph said as we made our way to the street, the brittle air biting at every inch of exposed skin as we both looked around, both equally unsure of what came next.
The storefronts were alive with displays and lights.
Each time a door of the coffee shop beside us opened, carols spilled out onto the street.
“Me either,” I agreed, looking out at the whole of Spanish Harlem. “I think I know somewhere we can go to decompress,” I said, stepping out, throwing up an arm, and hailing a cab.
Steph, thankfully, blindly followed, keeping her thoughts to herself, which allowed me a couple of minutes to try to sort through my own.
“What is this?” she asked a few minutes later as we pulled up outside of a warehouse that used to operate as a storage facility for a mid-level arms dealer. Who was now clumsy Ant’s wife.
These days, the building was a legit construction business that the Family funneled an insane amount of money through. And that we relied on for all our personal renovation needs, so no one had to worry about a rival crew or the law planting a bug in someone’s house.
“A friend’s business,” I said, walking up to the front door and pressing a finger into the fingerprint scanner.
Anyone who might need to use the place to drop off cash had a profile in the system.
“A fingerprint scanner?” Steph asked, brows scrunched up.
“He’s a fan of security,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. I just wasn’t sure there was a reason to tell Stephanie the truth just yet.
“This is a construction firm?” she asked, checking the sign as we moved inside.
Ant must have the heat lowered at night to just high enough to keep the pipes from freezing because it wasn’t the warm and cozy inside that I was hoping to give her. But it was better than the sharp cold outside.
“Why are we at a construction firm?” she asked, following me across the tile floor that looked like hardwood. Ant was a fan of the shit. If anyone wanted to put that click stuff in, he always convinced them to go with the tile instead.
Looks the same but is practically indestructible.
I flicked on lights as we moved through the common workspace, then into Ant and Saylor’s office.
It had all glass walls that, with the touch of a button, could go completely frosted for privacy.
The inside featured a large desk, but also a plush couch.
“Here, sit,” I said, bringing her over to the couch. When she sat, I lowered onto the coffee table, then took each of her legs into my lap in turns, removing her heels.
“Are they full of blood?” she asked as I set the shoes down.
“No blood. But you have some blisters forming. Here,” I said, sliding my finger across one. “And here.”
It was a barely-there touch, but a little shiver moved through Stephanie anyway.
Interest twisted in my gut, but there was no way to act on it. First, because she was freaked out. Second, because Ant and Saylor had cameras fucking everywhere.
“I’ll get you a coffee,” I said, standing and turning away before she could agree or not.
Ant had a hidden kitchenette, but I moved out of the office to go toward the staff kitchen instead, needing a minute to rack my brain about what to do next.
There weren’t many members of the Costa Family that wouldn’t be busy this time of year.
Maybe Zeno, since he was usually too distracted by his computer shit to remember to attend family get-togethers. And his brother Gavino, because he was a surly, antisocial fuck who didn’t like leaving his apartment.
The coffee finished brewing, and I poured and prepared our cups before bringing them back to the office.
“What are you doing?” I asked when I came back to find Steph lifting her hands up in the air.
“There’s a vent above my head. My fingers are icicles.”
“This will help,” I said, holding out the coffee for her to wrap her cold hands around.
“Thanks. My feet feel like they have a pulse,” she grumbled, clenching and unclenching her toes.
“Gotta get you some memory foam shoes for the next few days.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, taking a sip of her coffee. “Venezio, why are we here?”
“We needed somewhere to sit down.”
“Sure. But… but there was a coffee place right where we were.”
She was too damn quick for her own good.
“Yeah, but it’s almost Christmas. The place was packed. There was no way we would find seats and you needed to get off your feet for a bit.”
She couldn’t argue with that. No, this wasn’t like being in Midtown at Christmas, but not only were tourists around, but locals were all out shuffling to parties or doing their shopping.
“Why do you have access to this place? Do you work here?”
“No. I just… visit a lot.” That wasn’t a lie. I worked my ass off, earned a lot of money, and needed somewhere to drop it off.
Steph was in the middle of taking another sip when there was a slamming noise out front.
It could have been nothing.
This was a noisy, busy neighborhood.
But something made my gut tighten, made my blood run cold.
It was too close.
It sounded right outside the front door.
Sucking in a deep breath, I stepped out of the office, which gave me a direct view of the camera feed of the front door.
And there he was.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“What is it?” Steph asked when I turned and ran back into the office.
I ripped the coffee out of her hands, spilling some across her dress. But I couldn’t worry about shit like that.
“He’s out front.”
“What? He?”
“Yeah, he. With the gun. Get your shoes on.”
Her eyes went to saucers, but she stood and slipped back into her heels.
“What do we do?”
The only exit out the back led to the front of the building.
“We go up.”