Page 7 of Solemn Vow

“Excuse me.” An older woman’s purse bumps into my shoulder as she works her way to the front of the bus.

My stop is coming up, so I let her pass then swing out into the narrow aisle and follow her up to the doors.

Izzy’s offered me her little Ford Tempo now that she’s with Andrei. Aside from having a driver ready to take her anywhere at any time, she has access to any of his half dozen cars.

But I like the bus. I don’t have to worry about parking. And who wants to waste money on insurance and license fees?

When I step down from the bus, a cold wind blows across my face, whisking away my breath for a beat. I suck in the chilled air when I’m able and wrap my scarf around me.

Tucking my hands into my pockets and securing my purse beneath my arm, I march down the block to the corner diner. I keep my head down but stay alert to everyone passing me. This isn’t the nicest part of the city.

Abandoned beer bottles roll across the sidewalk and into the street. Fast food wrappers litter the walkways. Several men huddle together outside the entrance of a drug store as I pass, swapping cash for little baggies of powder.

I quicken my step.

I know this neighborhood. It’s old stomping grounds for me, but I’m not feeling anything like nostalgia as I step over the legs of the sleeping man passed out against a storefront with his arms wrapped around a bottle.

Finally, I’m at the diner, and only when the bell over the door sounds my entrance do I breathe easier. It was only a block and a half, but with fifteen hundred dollars in my purse I felt every step of the way.

“Marlena.” Jimmy waves from a corner booth. The place is half empty, but the waitress doesn’t bother greeting me after Jimmy raises his hand. I’m here on business, and she knows it.

I slide into the booth across from him, bringing my purse to sit on my lap.

“You want something?” He gestures to the waitress standing behind the counter making more coffee.

“No. I’m just dropping and going.” I take note of the man sitting in the far corner booth, closest to the bathrooms. He’s eating a stack of pancakes and reading a newspaper through his reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

There’s a mom with two kids two booths behind us. She’s managing to keep one from smearing syrup on his face while praising the older girl for eating all of her oatmeal.

It doesn’t seem Jimmy brought anyone with him.

“No chitchat?” He quirks a dirty brown eyebrow at me. His lips, chapped to hell, spread into a smile. “Please. Have breakfast. It’s on me. Don’t make me eat alone.” He gestures to the half-eaten omelet on his plate.

“You seem to be doing fine on your own.” I glance up as someone walks past us to the restrooms. An elderly man.

“You need to relax. No one’s gonna jump you.” He laughs and shovels a forkful of shredded hash browns into his mouth.

“I have things to do today, let’s get this over with.” I unzip my purse and dig out the envelope with the last of my cash. It had been an absolute miracle when I’d opened up the box in the back of my closet and found five hundred and thirty dollars there.

“Fine. Fine.” He grabs the envelope from me, opens it, and thumbs through the twenties and tens until he’s satisfied it’s all there. “Good.” He tucks it next to his plate and picks up his fork again.

I let out a breath and start to scoot out of the booth.

“Next week, same time.”

I freeze at his words.

“What?” I sink back into the lumpy leather booth seat. “Next week? I don’t have anything else for you, Jimmy. Enough is enough already.”

He lifts a shoulder. “Before I went away, I was making well over half a million a year. So, five hundred grand for three years.” He raises his eyebrows. “That’s a lot of money I’m out because of you.”

“I don’t have that kind of money, Jimmy. I’m not in the business anymore. I got out.” By the skin of my teeth and a miracle I’ll never quite understand. “I have nothing to give you. Every time we meet, you stretch this out. I know you blame me, but it’s enough already. I don’t have anything to give you.”

“I think you do.” He salts his eggs. “What do you know about the Petrov family?” He looks up at me and I know he already knows his answer.

“I know you shouldn’t be fucking with them.” Jimmy never did know when to back off. Always looking for a bigger fish, the bigger score.

It’s how he ended up getting pinched years ago. After spending three years in county, you’d think he’d learn his lesson. Turns out all it did was make him hungrier for more.

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