Page 5 of Delivered in White

“Yeah well, this ghost remembers putting his neck on the line so you could see your son grow strong,” Dad says smoothly.

“Mph.”Stanzo has no words. I guess he can’t deny it.

“I need that favor you promised me all those years ago. You know I wouldn’t ask if I had another choice.”

“Place in Summit, Jersey still?”

“Yes.” Dad covers the mouthpiece and sighs with relief, knowing the direction the call is going.

“One hour.”

Click.

Dad’s whole body deflates, and I take him to sit on the couch.

“What happened with the case, Dad?”

“My connection failed me. The FBI held up a piece of evidence under lock and key that I had no defense against. A video of the kill—cold blood, a little off-center, but otherwise as crisp as a movie.” He holds his head. “Guess the FBI was sick of losing to me.” He laughs sadly. “Now I pay the price.”

“Don’t say that.” My hands are still quivering from the shock of it all. I can smell the sweat and grime of Groundhog’s skin even after I washed my face. Trauma gets burned in, I guess.

Dad holds me in his arm for the next twenty minutes, rocking me back and forth on the couch like I’m a kid again. It’s comforting, actually, and calms my nerves considerably, even if deep down I know we’re likely screwed.

I wish there was somethingIcould do. Suddenly following my dreams of saving the planet seems like a useless road. There’s no NDA or third-party contract agreement that’s going to save the day here. Eight years of college forwhat?

“Alright, hunnie, let’s get you in your room so I can talk to him alone when he comes. C’mon.” He struggles to his feet and grabs my hand.

Still just a useless kid.

I don’t protest though, because Stanzo scares the shit out of me. He and his grumbling son, Tristano. I mean, who the hell has a mafia father-son duo? Do they take turns slitting people’s wrists and cigar-cutting fingers? I go numb just thinking about it. Best leave Dad to do what he does best.

He walks me to my room and shuts the blinds of the sliding glass door leading to our pool, then he stops in the doorway with his hands on his hips, smirking sadly at me. “I’m going to keep you safe, Capri, even if it kills me. And… I hope you can forgive me about today.”

I nod. “I’ll be okay. I’m strong.”

He looks to the floor, then turns and shuts the door behind him.

What else is there to do but sit on my bed with my legs hugged into my chest, waiting for some dark knight savior to make this nightmare go away? I look at my phone, tempted to call the cops. But only an idiot would think the cops could save us from the Lucrazis. They probably have more people on the inside than they do on the streets at this point.

The walls of my bedroom suddenly seem so small and enclosing after every thought.

I’m freakin’ trapped.

I go to work – basement. I come here – prison. Why are all the high-end places so confining?

A text from Gil pops up:

Gil— Wanted to make sure you got home okay after your big incident in the kiddie pool.

“Dick.” I smirk. Would’ve been funny if I wasn’t actually threatened an hour ago. Still.Not my type.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

I gasp when I see the shadow of a gloved fist knocking on the glass of my patio door. “Oh my God.Oh my God.Dad!”

“Relax, kid. I’m the help. It’s Stanzo,”a muffled voice comes through. Sounds like he’s been smoking a thousand cigarettes a day.

Thoughts race in my mind. What’s the likelihood the Lucrazis already tapped Dad’s cell? Who the hell wears a glove in eighty-five-degree weather?A freakin’ killer!

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