Page 26 of Wrapped in Silver

“Apologies, Aros. Sometimes theseamateursget the better of me.” He huffs again and plops in his seat beside me.

“Mm.” I judge him.

“What do you think? Am I crazy, or does this scene not look believable?” Sully waves his hand as the actors get ready for another take.

“What are you suggesting?” My eyes scan slowly to his.

He visibly swallows past a lump. “No—no disrespect, Aros.” He clears his throat and focuses again on the set. “Alright, chop-chop! Next take!”

I sit there hunched, hand to chin with my elbow on the arm of my chair, mind wandering.

Watching Quinn sleep peacefully was an image that contradicts all of reality. It was brief, because she was flailing for most of the ten minutes I sat there before she woke, but there was that moment of calmness.

Something about it… I wanted to stay there as her guard, fantasizing that the Russians came for her, but could get nowhere close. I’d never make the mistake of losing another—

I tense my jaw so hard I worry it might crack.

As they wrap up the scene, everyone from production gets up from their chairs, bringing me back to reality.

“What’s the name of this one again, Sully?” I nod to the mess of fake blood and bad acting.

“Chilling Desires,” Scully says. “It’s not my first choice of script, but the studio can’t deny it hits hard for the demographic. Women areobsessedwith the corny drama. And I’m here to deliver it.” He pats me twice on the shoulder. “Alright, people. Clean up and move on.Next scene is in the basement, then we’re done with this house for the day.”

That’s my cue to walk around with the assessor to make sure all damages are restored after the set is wrapped. I have an eye for detail. The chips in the wall from the sloppy camera guys bumping into it, two bulbs in the chandelier from one of the prop knives hitting it. I could go on.

Now that they’re cleaning up, I have to think of my next move—feeding and tending to Captain Dall… and checking in with Donny.

I’m not looking forward to either, if I’m being honest. What the hell is my cousin going to think when I went andstolethe Russians’ fucking prize?

It’s fine. There’s not one trace that could be linked to the Italians. I was careful in the card game, and even more so at the warehouse. No trace, no nothing.

Here’s the problem, though. If I hand the captain back to Quinn, will she sing? Could a kid that young possibly be trustworthy? Or will she slip like an idiot, or get spiteful like a teenager?

You can’t fuck up an entire family’s peace on a whim, Aros. That ain’t part of the code.

Once the crew finishes the report with my blessing, I wait for them to exit. The head honchos pay their respects, thanking me for the smooth set, while the lower-level guys give me a pound just because. Once everyone is out, I head to my black Cadillac SUV. It’s a few years old on purpose—to better blend in with the masses. If I moved around like those gaudy fools,Tristano and Castor, I’d have been caught with my pants down on more than one job.

Blend in.

Be a ghost.

Then why did you bring home Quinn’s daddy?I grunt again.

Digging around the glove compartment, I pull a burner and plug Donny’s current number from memory. I’ve stalled long enough, I think. He may have already heard through the grape vine what went down.

Definitely, actually.

The phone rings.

“Yes?”Donny’s unmistakable voice comes through.

“This VPN business, or whatever. They actually work? Thought that was for laptops and stuff,” I say.

“Dicey talking up his big tech breakthroughs again, huh?” Donny cackles. “Yeah, we can talk. The feds can’t track these phones. Encrypted. Tested and true, old man.”

I’m going seventy on the highway, blending in with traffic, eyes scanning for cops,always.I’m literally headed to a stage house with a tied-up captain in the basement, so can’t be too careful.

“I’ll never get used to not speaking in code over these lines.”

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