“Probably for the best,” Anthony said pointedly, giving me a look I couldn’t decipher but probably meant we’d have words later.
“Um, what does this have to do with opening a bank account? I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude. I’m just really exhausted.”
“Shopping does that to you,” I said jokingly.
Anthony laughed. “I’d say Nixon does that as well…”
“Very funny.” I shook my head and then nodded toward his computer, my way of saying “Alright, jackass. You’ve questioned her enough. Get to typing.”
“Very well. Miss Rooks, was it?” He coughed into his hand.
She nodded, still clenching my hand.
“I’ll work some magic and open your account without your social security number. I’ll add the address of the school you attend. Do you have a phone number where I can reach you?”
She gave him her phone number. I mentally stored it, just in case I wanted to text her, or call, or make sure she hadn’t gotten stolen by the Alfero bastards.
“And the cash?” Tony held out his hand.
I reached into my back pocket and handed it to him, knowing that pretty soon the bills would be traced back to Alfero or another crime family, again confirming our suspicions. Bills like that were always marked, which made me wonder. Why the hell would Frank give her bills that would put a giant red X on her forehead? Did he want her to be discovered? Or was he just turning senile?
Anthony counted out ten grand and put it through the machine. Once the paperwork was signed, he gave Trace one of our temporary cards that had the GPS device in it. She quickly put it in her purse, and all the tension left my body. At least I knew I could keep her safe. At least I would know where she was at all times.
“We good?” I asked, folding some of the paperwork and stuffing it into my pocket.
Anthony nodded. “For now.”
“Alright.” I grabbed Trace’s hand again. “See you Sunday, Uncle Tony.”
“You too, Boss. Don’t forget the time, or your pops is gonna throw a fit.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved him off and forced myself to look happy, when really, I knew Tony was just testing me to find out how much Trace knew about our family.
Luckily, she just grinned like a fool. Sunday dinner. How nice!
Right. With my dead father, that should be interesting, and considering I didn’t make a habit of conjuring up demons, pretty sure his seat was going to be empty. Then again, I sat at the head of the table now.
I fought the groan rising up from my chest and managed to get her out of the building without turning on my heel and pointing a gun at Tony’s head for daring to challenge me like that in front of her. Blood roaring, I almost didn’t hear Trace’s question.
“Why are people afraid of you?” she finally asked after the silent car ride all the way back to school.
We pulled up to the dorm. The radio played softly in the background, but I was anything but relaxed. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
She gulped. “Sometimes.”
That hurt, and I had no one to blame but myself. I reached across the console and gripped her hand, “You know I would never let anyone hurt you, right?”
“See!” she yelled. “That’s what I’m talking about! A few days ago you were telling me I was basically the cockroach beneath your shoe! And now you’re taking me shopping? I’m sorry. It doesn’t add up.” Her eyes filled with tears before she looked down at our clenched hands.
“Yeah, well, life rarely does.” I swore then groaned. I felt too old and tired — so damn tired of this shit. “Look, I was just warning you, that’s all. And just because I’m being nice to you doesn’t change the fact that you have to follow the rules if you want to survive here.”
“Thanks. Got that memo loud and clear once I was drenched with sugar water and drugged.” Trace rolled her brown eyes.
“Damn it, then why not just do what I say?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t like being bossed around.”
“No shit,” I smirked, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Hell, something was wrong with me if I was watching her breathe and liking it. “But sometimes it’s for your own safety. Can’t you see that? Maybe the world isn’t as shiny and fun as you once thought. People are mean. Humanity is a cruel joke, Trace. I’m just trying to prevent them from getting the last laugh.”
She sighed, turning to face me, and a curtain of brown hair fell across her face. “So, why do they listen? Why do you get to make the rules?”
I froze as the moonlight hit her cheek, casting a glow across her lips. With a sigh, I cupped her face. “I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish I didn’t have to make rules… or enforce them.”