“After your meeting with Delanti secures this business venture, we’ll get local PD to watch houses at night.”
“Pepper and Sawyer frequently have my daughter, Allie. I want to make sure that everyone is going to be safe or I’m not going through with this. Obviously my main concern is for me, Clara, and Allie, but by default that extends to Sawyer and Pepper as well. I want guarantees.”
Clint sighs. He hates this part of the job. Guarantees. There aren't any in life.
“Listen, Dominic, there are no absolutes in life. We will do everything we can to make sure that no one gets hurt,” I offer before Clint lies and makes promises he can’t keep. Clint lifts the corner of his mouth at me and nods at Dominic, who seems to be placated for now. A couple firm handshakes and we’re exiting the building.
Now we hurry up and wait. No way to move forward until Dominic Napoli seals the deal and construction begins.
“I’ll see you soon, James,” Clint states as we head toward separate cars.
“Not soon enough.”
“Easy, cowboy. Some things take patience and planning. We don’t have room for errors in this situation so keep a cool head.”
I stare at him a beat before saluting him and folding into my rental. He’s right, of course, there is no room for a plan B in this particular case. However satisfying it might seem to simply slit the bastard’s throat, we’ve got one window of opportunity to garner enough evidence to put Torren Delanti behind bars for life.
Chapter Nine
Greta Billings
“Take one step and make it count. Hold your breath and let it out”
PHILLIP PHILLIPS – “SEARCHLIGHT”
The disdain on the cashier’s face is evident to anyone paying attention as Clara pays for our meals. It makes my blood boil to see her judged solely on her appearance. She's beautiful inside and out. A small hand encompasses mine. I look down.
"Don't be mad," Allie says, noticing the direction of my gaze and rigid body language.
"I'm not mad," I answer.
"You are. Dom used to get mad too, but I told him what Mum always tells me."
"And that is?" I question, wondering what she's going on about.
"People who are worth loving come in all shapes, sizes, and looks. People who judge are just scared. Fear makes people do silly things. She said, 'if my hair was a rainbow and my face was covered in warts would you still love me?'"
"Ew," I say with a smirk and scrunch up my nose.
"Yeah. Kinda gross but of course I would. She asked me why. I said, cause you're my mum. She asked why else. I had to think for a while but I got it then. I don't love her because of what's outside of her, I love my mum because of what's inside her. So the outside is just art."
"Art," I repeat, stumped. This kid. Pepper is always saying she's a genius in the making and right now, I'm starting to believe it.
"Yeah, art. We are all allowed to be art. To show what we feel we are on the inside, on the outside. I like clothes, Mum likes crazy hair color, Dad likes tattoos...see? Art."
"You are one deep kid you know that?" I rub my back gently on the chair back to rid the itch from the healing portion of the tattoo. This is my second session with Clara and in another hour or two it will be complete.
"Dom says I'm an old soul, but I'm not really old so I don't get that." She shakes her head and grins at me as Clara plops down in the chair to her left.
"What're we talking about?" Clara asks.
"Art." I shrug.
"What kind of art?"
"People art," Allie tells her, smiling. Clara looks to me, perplexed, and again I shrug.
"Okkaayy," she sings.
"Let's just eat so we can finish this damn tattoo.”
I’m flat on my stomach as the needle buzzes across the flesh of my back.
Ink.
It’s saturating my pristine skin.
The raven I requested is almost completed. A big, black raven in flight, wings spread, spanning my shoulder blades. A tribute to remember. To forget. Through the heart of the raven is a dagger. Blood trickles from the raven’s chest. My
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