by Alexa Riley
Putting my head under the thundering water, I wash my hair and my body and stand there until the water starts to turn cold. It’s not like it takes that long in this building anyway. I’m shocked I got as much as I did, but maybe it’s because I’m up early and no one else in the building is hogging it yet. Not many are early risers around here. Normally I’d feel bad, but I can’t seem to care. It’s not like anyone else feels bad when they do it.
Shutting off the shower, I hop out, drying myself off before putting my hair up in the towel to help it dry. I go about my morning routine, finding a clean uniform for Rita’s after I leave my day job. I yawn just thinking about it. When I open my purse, I pause, seeing the money the man had left in there the night before. I pick it up and count it out: five hundred dollars.
I want to cry, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m thankful for it or because I feel dirty that I’m going to keep it. I should call the cops. It’s the right thing to do, but I’m not dumb. I don’t know who he was, but someone with money and likely power isn’t someone I want to mess with. I witnessed a murder last night, and I don’t need to know any more than that. If I want to stay alive, I know I need to keep my mouth shut. I just hope it’s enough.
He probably has tons of people behind him and here I am, alone. I’m not sure anyone would even notice if I went missing. My jobs would likely think I was a no - call, no - show and quit. Maybe my landlord, but only because he wants his money. He’d probably just throw my stuff out after a week and rent it to someone else, not even telling anyone I disappeared. God, that’s sad and makes me want to really cry now. My eyes start to water as I feel sorry for myself.
I probably wouldn’t even make it back from the police station without a bullet in my head. I pray that what he told me about the man was true. That he was a bad person. I’m tempted to turn on the TV and see if there’s anything on the news about it, but I stop myself.
It would eat me alive if I found out the dead man was someone with a family that loved him, if he was hardworking and they needed him. I can see it now — a wife holding her baby, sobbing, while her kids stand all around her. I take the money over to my dresser and put it inside a pair of socks.
What kind of criminal tells you how to get away from someone like him? “Never run home,” he’d said. Then told me to lock my door. Maybe he’s a good guy. I lie to myself as I shut my dresser drawer.
I know I’m trying to make myself feel better by thinking that. That it’s okay I’m not going to the cops and I’m keeping the money. That there is no wife crying over the dead man.
I open a few more drawers, finding something to wear to work today. I don’t have a closet in my tiny bedroom, so my meager amount of clothes is stuffed into this thing. I pull out a pair of thick black leggings and a lightweight purple sweater that falls off one shoulder. We get to go casual at the telemarketing job because no one sees us. I’ve seen some roll out of bed and come to work, literally showing up in their pajamas. As long as they don’t stink, management doesn’t say anything. And even if they do, they just get put in their own corner.
I get dressed then go back into the bathroom and brush out my hair before giving it a quick blow dry. I decide to put on some eyeliner and mascara. It only takes a second and makes me look like I’m not falling asleep. I go back into my bedroom to double check that I have everything I need for the day.
I make my way into my tiny eat-in kitchen and open the fridge. Like I was expecting, there isn’t anything to eat. I glance at the clock and see I have time to stop and grab something if I want. It’s not something I normally do, and I really shouldn’t waste my money, but my mind flicks back to the cash in the dresser. It’s a safe cushion and I can afford a small splurge. After a scare like that, I think I deserve one of my favorite bagels and a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream on it. My stomach rumbles at the idea. Him telling me to eat is also pushing that decision for some reason. As if I’m supposed to do what he tells me.
After work I should really go to the store though. I still have the tips from Rita’s in my purse, plus what I make tonight. Maybe I can cut out a little early.
I glance over at the door and pull out my keys. Not like I can stay in here forever. Besides, I think if he wanted in or wanted to send someone in, he could have. The door isn’t bulletproof, and he’s a big enough guy that he could easily kick it in.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and peek out. Nothing. Just the normal dirty walls of the hallway and the stained green carpet. Stepping out, I shut the door, sliding my key in and turning the lock.
“Sugar.”
I scream. Jumping, I turn around to see it’s my neighbor Big Shot. I’m guessing that’s not really his name, but that’s what he tells everyone to call him. He isn’t half wrong. He’s big, but not big like the man from last night. No, the stranger who chased after me was all muscle.
I hate how I noticed how attractive he was. It wasn’t something that should have been on my mind, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d never seen a man like him before. Power and dominance rolled off him. I could feel it pushing at me with each command he’d given me.
Hell, if I did go to the cops, I could give them every detail of his face. From the strong set of his jaw that had a small cut on the left side of it, to his dark lashes that made those deep blue eyes seem more deadly. Even his teeth seemed too perfect to be real. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in a while and his stubble was coming in. I paid way too much attention to him.
I could even tell them that he smelled like cherry wood with a mix of gunpowder. He was so big, and he made me feel small. He easily towered over me, his big chest filling up all the space in front of me.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, sugar,” Big Shot says, breaking me from the thoughts I shouldn’t be having. “You’re out early.”
He’s probably still up from last night. Big Shot always gives me the creeps. He stares a little too long, but beyond that he’s never done more. He always has women coming and going, though. A lot of them are pretty. Prettier than me, so I don’t understand why he’s always trying to get my attention and talk to me. Or why those women are coming and going, either. I keep to myself and don’t ask him questions. I wish he’d do the same.
“Yeah, going to grab some breakfast,” I tell him, slipping my keys into my bag. I go to move, but he steps in front of me.
“Who was the guy last night?” he asks.
I look up at him because I’m so short I have to look up at most people. I want to say “what guy?” but then he’ll know I’m lying because he must have seen him. Crap, I’m a terrible liar.
“I really gotta go,” I say, stepping around him. He moves out of my way, but not enough, and I have to brush past him. I glance back over my shoulder, and his eyes are on my ass. Gross.
I make my way down the stairs fast but pause at the door to leave the building. I shake my head and push through the door, trying to let go of my fear. My eyes dart up and down the street. I glance to the way I normally go, and curiosity wins out. Something my aunt used to tell me was going to get me in trouble one day. That I shouldn’t go digging into things but I could help but do it. I was always wondering what was going on around the house. There wasn’t a ton to do, but there was a ton of people-watching to do. It was oftentimes more interesting than the TV. Not that I ever got a turn at the TV.
I walk along my normal path. My heartbeat picks up as I make my way to the shortcut to get to my train. When I get to the fence, I pause and glance over. It looks like nothing happened. I step in, trying to get a better look, but still nothing. No signs that a man was murdered in there. I see movement out of the corner of my eye and I glance over to a man standing in the junkyard. He’s in a suit and is looking straight at me.
My breath freezes in my lungs. It’s not the man from last night, but I can’t seem to move. He studies me and can probably hear my heart beating even from this distance.
Act normal, I tell myself. “Hi,” I manag
e to say and give a small wave. A woman who saw someone get murdered here wouldn’t be so casual and friendly, right? Jesus, I want to smack myself. “Hope you don’t mind I cut through here. Shortcut to the station,” I say. He doesn’t say anything. He keeps staring at me.
Okay then. I turn and keep walking, picking up my steps a little and praying he doesn’t follow me. I feel the breath I was holding leave my lungs as I see the train pull up right as I get there. I jump in, falling into one of the seats, and my head drops back against the window. Maybe I’ll take a cab home tonight, because I’m never going down that alley again.
Chapter 5
Salvatore
“It’s been two weeks. Are you going to tell me who she is or not?” Gio asks, startling me.
“It’s none of you — ”
“You can’t keep saying it’s none of my business.” He cuts me off and gives me a glare. “Everything is my business, especially when it comes to you. I know you’ve been watching the woman who lives there. Are you going to tell me why?”
I’m in my office packing up for the day. It’s only four o’clock, but I like to watch Thea walk from the telemarketing job to Rita’s, just to make sure she’s safe. Not that she knows I’m watching her. I haven’t spoken a word to her directly since that first night. But every day since, I’ve been a part of her life. In more ways than she realizes.
I let out a deep sigh and sit down in my chair, leaning back. Gio may not be my brother by blood, but he is in every other sense of the word. There’s nothing I’ve ever kept from him, and this secrecy is causing a rift to form between us. This has been something that’s only mine, but I know it can’t stay that way forever.
“Her name is Thea,” I finally admit, and look away from him. I don’t like sharing any part of her, even her name, with someone else.
“She’s the reason we bought the building, right?” he asks, and I nod. “Does she know who you are?”
There’s a long pause, and I look back to him, unsure of how to explain it. Then I decide the truth is the best.
“She saw me kill Joey. I chased her down, and now I’m just making sure she doesn’t talk.” Okay, so maybe not one hundred percent true.
“You let a witness walk?” Gio’s voice is a mix of shock and disapproval.
“I took care of it,” I say defensively, and stand up. I go back to cleaning up my desk before I leave. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone.
“Salvatore.”
“Giovanni,” I snap back.
“Is this going to be a problem?” he asks, and now there’s concern, rather than accusation, behind his words.
“Have I ever not taken care of business? Have I ever once put us in jeopardy?” Heat rushes up my neck as anger takes hold. I walk around the desk and get toe to toe with him. “Have you once in your goddamn life ever known me to not cover my shit and do what’s best for everyone in our family?”
He clenches his jaw and rolls his shoulders. Gio is a kitten until you get in his space. That’s when the panther comes out and he’ll rip your throat out. But I’m not scared. He and I had our differences when we were younger and we worked through them. I just need to remind him that I’m not the enemy.
“You’re right, brother,” he finally says, and reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder. “Just be careful. I know I give you a hard time about finding a woman, but I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“I know. I will be,” I say, and it goes a long way to cool both of us down. I pull him into a quick hug and then step back, grabbing my bag off the desk.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I say as I walk out of the office.
When I get to the garage, I slip into my black Maserati and start it up. It’s not a long drive to the place where Thea spends the first part of her day, but it gives me just long enough to talk myself out of approaching her today.
It’s been hell these two weeks, keeping my distance, but I keep promising myself that I will make my move soon. I also needed to make sure she didn’t run to the cops. It was a real possibility, although I hoped she wouldn’t. I needed to see who her friends and family were and if she confided in them about what happened. I put a few of my men around in key places to watch and listen, and so far, there’s been nothing. She’s kept her silence, and for her loyalty she’s been rewarded. But the greatest reward is yet to come.
After the night we parted ways, I bought the building she lives in and secretly had a few upgrades done. I had cameras installed, better lighting outside, and security guards placed at all the entrances. A couple of the guys I had watching the area knew to be on the lookout for her, but I didn’t mention her name. I just said she was a distant cousin to a family member and was staying there temporarily. Which is true. She won’t be in that dump much longer.
I also went to her telemarketing job and spoke with the owner. I pretended to be a headhunter checking for work references on Thea, and they offered up everything they had on her so easily I nearly lost my shit. I kept my cool, though, and learned all that I could and paid them for their time and services. If they seemed at all surprised by this, they didn’t act like it and pocketed the money without another word.
As soon as I left, I contacted my tech guy to hack in and erase any data the company had on her. Fucking idiots just gave me her life in a folder without so much as a glance at an ID.
I didn’t go into her waitressing job, but instead watched her from outside. She kept to herself and worked her fingers to the bone every night. It made my chest ache to watch it that first night.
I followed her on the train home but stayed in a different compartment and kept my distance. That first night, after she was safely in her home, I ordered Chinese for her and had it delivered. She tried to refuse it, but I paid the guy an extra fifty to tell her it was for her and it was taken care of.
Now every night, I have food sent to her home. She stopped trying to refuse after a few days, but I keep wondering if she knows it’s me. I wonder if there’s a place inside of her that knows I’m taking care of her. Just like I said I would.
At the end of every night I wait outside her building until I watch her light go out. After that, I head home and think about her until I fall asleep. I can’t hold back much longer, and each day that passes, I become less and less patient.
I pull up in my usual spot that’s close to the old house she works in but not close enough for her to notice me. A Maserati sticks out in a neighborhood like this, but she hasn’t so much as glanced in its direction. One day I’m going to talk to her about being aware of her surroundings.
I’m early, but I never mind the wait for her to leave. Some days I follow her on foot to the train station and ride it with her. Some days I wait until she gets on and then drive straight to Rita’s. I strum my fingers on the steering wheel as the clock ticks by.
When she’s five minutes late, I get annoyed.
I get out of my car and pace a little closer, thinking that maybe I can see if there’s a meeting or something happening inside.
After ten minutes have passed, I’m getting angry, with concern growing right along next to it.
Finally, I give up and walk into the building, knowing that she always leaves out the back. If she’s working late, then she won’t see me and there won’t be any harm done. That’s what I tell myself.
When I walk inside, there’s a young girl at the reception desk smacking her gum and holding her phone up for a selfie.
“Is Thea James working?” I ask, getting right to the point.
The girl looks up from her phone in confusion. “Who?”
“Thea Jones.” I hold my hand up to the height of my chest. “This tall, long dark hair, gray eyes.”
“There’s no such thing as gray eyes.” She looks at me skeptically.
“Do you know who she is?” I’m irritated, and I don’t do a thing to keep it from my voice.
“Yeah, she’s the quiet one who used to sit in the back. She’s gone,” the
girl says, and goes back to her phone.
I’ve had enough. I reach over and put my hand over the screen and push it down to the desk. “Did she leave early?”
“Dude. Don’t touch my property,” she says, moving her phone from under my hand as she looks around for help. When she sees none, she finally answers me. “She didn’t come in today. I hear they called her last night and let her go with a bunch of other people. Cutbacks or something. It wasn’t just her.”
I don’t say another word. I push back from the desk and I’m out the door with my cell in my hand. The guy I had watching her building picks up his phone on the first ring. I slide behind the wheel as I try to figure out what happened.
“Why wasn’t I informed the woman on the third floor didn’t leave for work today?” I’ve been getting updates on her movements for two weeks, and I’m pissed I didn’t hear about this already.
“Sorry, boss. I thought you only wanted to know when she left. I haven’t seen any movement today, so I assumed all was good.”
I hang up the phone and hit the gas. Normally it takes me a while to get to the other end of town where she lives, but I’ll make it in half that today. I’m gripping the steering wheel and weaving in and out of traffic as I think about her losing her job. She works hard and has barely anything. I know it probably wasn’t her dream to work there, but she seemed to be trying to make it work. It pisses me off that I wasn’t there for her when she got the call. That I wasn’t beside her, telling her it was going to be okay.
By the time I make it to the building, I spot my guy near a construction zone across the street, where it looks like he’s set up to work. But in reality, all he’s set up to do is watch Thea. That’s his only fucking job.
When he spots me, he immediately stands up and comes over to meet me.
“I’m sorry, boss. I should have reported her staying put,” he says quickly, trying to smooth things over.
