Emilia (Part 1)(13)
My head snapped up, way more interested in this errand than two seconds earlier. I needed dirt on my dad’s dealings if I wanted to get away from him, and maybe Sal was handing me something on a silver platter.
“What kind of errand?”
A deep chuckle spilled from his lips. “Knowing your penchant for spying, I should’ve started there.”
“What’s this errand?” I asked, ignoring his statement. There was no use denying it. He caught me hiding in my dad’s study.
“Just a little something for Pietro.”
“Wait…” I leaned forward, bracing my hands on the dash as he whipped around a corner. “I thought you worked with my Uncle Angelo, not Pietro.”
He parallel parked in a spot in front of an industrial building with a brick façade and four oversized gray garage doors. Black, red, and blue graffiti marred its smooth concrete sides. It looked like someone had boarded up the windows about a decade ago. The plywood was swollen and splintering around the edges. Yellowed weeds poked holes in the crumbling sidewalk. I’d bet a lot of money the building was crawling with rats and other unsavory creatures. The place should have been condemned. Just looking at it gave me the creeps.
Sal glanced at me as he opened the front driver’s door. “What do you know about what I do?”
“Enough.” I shrugged. “Like you said, I spend a lot of time gathering information.” I had no clue why I confessed that. I needed to practice keeping my thoughts to myself. Sal already proved he wasn’t on my side.
“Pietro asked me to pick something up for him. I do him a favor here or there because—”
“Because he took your family in after your dad died.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Who told you about that?”
“Was it a secret?”
“No.”
“Lettie,” I answered, watching his face carefully.
He flinched, then smoothed a hand down his face. “Yeah. She mentioned you two were friendly.”
“Oh, so you guys kept in touch after you moved out? I didn’t realize that.”
“What? No. Not even close.” His eyes widened. “I stopped by there a couple of days after your birthday and she mentioned your friendship in passing. That’s it.”
What the hell? Why didn’t she bring that up at lunch earlier today?
“Hmm,” I murmured. I wanted more details, but I’d wait until I could question her. I didn’t like the idea of him thinking I cared about anything he did after he made a joke out of me the last time I ran into him.
He climbed out the car and peered at the vacant building while patting his right side. He was probably double-checking he had a gun. While I’d never attended any so-called business errands with my dad, I’d overheard enough to know anyone with half a brain would never do any mafia business unarmed.
“If I’m not back out in twenty minutes, drive yourself home.” He tossed me the car keys and tapped the roof of the car three times. “Got it?”
“Have you lost your mind? I’m not leaving you here.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Should I call someone to come get you if I take off?”
“No,” he snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just drive away, leave Tony’s car at the end of your block, and forget you ever came here with me.”
A current of fear shot down my spine, and if he noticed me shudder, he didn’t comment. “I got it. Run away and don’t look back.”
“Good girl.” He flashed me a blatantly false smile and slammed the door. Thirty seconds later he rounded the side of the building with his gun drawn and pointed in front of him, the sunlight glinting off the metal.
CHAPTER NINE
I repeatedly peeked at the clock on the dashboard as I listened to song after song without any of the words or melodies registering in my mind. When thirty minutes passed, my chest tightened with fear and all kinds of theories I refused to verbalize.
Get in the driver’s seat and drive home.
I repeated this mantra five or six times, yet my body refused to comply with the order.
“Fuck!” I shouted, the shrillness of my voice echoing in my ears like a taunt. I studied the seemingly vacant warehouse, my heart drumming and my hands trembling. “Goddammit, Sal, why didn’t you take me home first?”
I banged my hand against the console. I needed to make a decision either way, because if something bad were going down inside, they’d find me within a matter of minutes, and I didn’t know if I could defend myself. The realization made me queasy.
“Screw this,” I mumbled, sliding across the front seat and shifting the car into drive. He wanted me to leave and that’s precisely what I was going to do. I didn’t have to deal with this shit. It was none of my business.