Page 28 of Embracing the Night

“I do have money,” Drake said. “Get them for us before midnight, and I’ll throw in a little extra.” He glanced from the fat man to Georgio. “For both of you.”

Before the fat man could respond, Drake reached into my bag and withdrew a wad of bills and slapped them down on the counter.

The fat man stared at the money, blinking rapidly, then as though coming to a decision, nodded. “Fine then. I can only do an American or Italian passport that fast. I already have what I need for it.” He waved at the door. “You go. Come back in an hour.”

The man reached out to grab the stack of bills, but Drake’s hand shot out, pinning the other man’s palm to the counter. Georgio stiffened and slid his hand inside his jacket. A trembling surge of adrenaline shot through me, making my palms sweaty.

“We’ll stay right here, I think,” Drake said, staring at the fat man.

The two Italians stared at Drake until the fat man nodded, diffusing the tension. “All right then. Have a seat.” He gave me a grinning look and slid his disgusting porno mag across the counter toward me. “Need something to read while you wait?”

“Ugh.” I grunted and tugged Drake away from the counter.

The fat man snatched up the bills and disappeared into the back room. Georgio turned the open sign off, and stepped back outside, moving his stool directly in front of the door. The two old men outside continued their little domino game as though nothing was happening.

Drake eyed the window out to the darkened streets. “Keep an eye out. If you see anything suspicious, let me know.”

“Suspicious?” I asked. “We’re in a fucking mafia run pawn shop getting illegal passports,” I hissed. “What’s more suspicious than that?”

He patted my leg. “It’ll be fine. This shouldn’t take too long.”

His words rang hollow, but he seemed to know his stuff. Within twenty minutes, the fat greasy guy had called us back to take a couple of pictures against a gray backdrop. And less than an hour later, we stood at the counter as the man slid the two little navy-colored books across the table to us.

Drake opened his and checked the picture and the name the man had chosen for him.

“Cary Grant?” Drake raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a little too familiar?”

“My friend,” he said. “It is not the nineteen-fifties. You’ll be fine.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said, looking at mine. “Debbie Dallas? You prick.”

The fat man looked offended. “It’s my favorite movie. A high mark of late seventies American pornographic filmmaking.”

“They’ll have to do,” Drake grunted and tossed another smaller stack of bills on the counter. “That’s for you and the guy outside. I’ll let him know I paid the extra as I leave.”

The fat man gave Drake a nasty gash of a smile and yanked the money toward himself. “A pleasure.”

We strode out the door, and Drake informed the guard to go get his cut before the greaseball inside decided to pocket the whole thing.

“Did anyone go near our car?” Drake asked, nodding toward our parking space.

“No,” the man said and vanished into the pawn shop.

The older men were packing up their game to go home, and it appeared that even the late-night activities of the Europeans were drawing to a close.

“Where are we going now?” I asked as we got back into the car.

“Airport. If we hurry, we may be able to get a late-night red eye. Depends on what’s available.”

The building was much more subdued than an airport would have been during peak hours. It was good for us. We could make out and spot the faces of almost everyone in the terminals. Drake walked up to the nearest counter and asked about tickets while I scanned the area behind us. I kept hoping and also dreading seeing Owen’s face, or Bri’s. It would make things less terrifying if we simply knew where they were. This anxiety of never knowing was awful.

Drake had to check three different counters until he found one with a flight he wanted. He took more money from my slowly depleting backpack and bought two first class tickets before joining me again.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re heading yet?” I asked.

“Not yet. Come on, let’s sit over here,” Drake led me to a bench beside the boarding area for a flight that would be going to Rio de Janeiro.

I leaned close, and hissed into his ear, “Are we going to Brazil?”

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