Page 43 of Text Me, Take Me

“Mason and a few of the others told them it was madness, but they wouldn’t listen.”

Rafe snorts. “The Vultures against the mob. Oh, I wonder who will win.” His voice is laced with sarcasm.

“If I brought you a map, would you be able to point out where The Vultures are hiding?”

He nods. “What happens to me after?”

I know what Rafe would do if I weren’t here. If a man dared to burn down a mob asset, he’d make an example of him.

“I turn you over to the cops. They’ll try to make you testify against The Vultures, most likely, but that’s up to you. Otherwise, you’ll do your time, maybe make something of your life, maybe not. That’s not my problem. Rafe – get me a map.”

Rafe leaves the room. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I return to the wall, lean against it. It’s a text from my Keepsake, driving home the importance of what we’re doing here, though it makes me feel sour, wrong somehow, like I’m moving backward.

Evie: If a certain girl was going to make a certain man a piece of jewelry to say thank you for a certain studio, what would she make?

It’s strange to smile in a situation like this, but that’s what Evie does to me.

Dom: What if a certain man told a certain girl he doesn’t wear jewelry?

Evie: She’d called him a liar. Because she knows he wears cufflinks.

Dom: Now we’re going to get into a debate about whether or not cufflinks constitute jewelry.

Evie: Don’t you wear necklaces, rings, anything like that?

Dom: I’m afraid not, but if you want to make to get me a gift, I won’t turn you down.

Evie: It probably means I’m crazy, but I’ve been thinking about it.

Dom: Why would it mean you’re crazy?

She sends an eye-rolling emoji, as if the answer is obvious. And it is. I just don’t want to face up to it.

To hammer the point home, she texts back.

Evie: You don’t need to ask me that, Warden.

I’m her prison warden, so obviously it’s insane that she’d feel the urge to make me a gift. Having the studio built is the most heartfelt thing I’ve ever done for anyone, but it doesn’t automatically make this okay.

Rafe returns with a map in his hand.

“My friend is going to cut your hands loose so you can show where your gang is hiding,” I say. “Try something, Bobby, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Rafe takes a knife from his ankle holster and cuts Bobby’s hands loose. Trembling like he’s on the verge of a panic attack, Bobby indicates a location on the map.

“Bind him up,” I say. “Gag him. Bobby, try not to freak. If you’re telling the truth and we find The Vultures there – or evidence they were there – I’ll turn you over to the cops. Nobody will hurt you. You have my word.”

Rafe does as I say, and then we step into the hallway.

“These men burned down one of your studios, Dom.”

“I know.”

“And you’re treating him like this is the goddamn Ritz.”

“Look at him, Rafe. Scared out of his mind. He’s not the man in charge.”

“That wouldn’t matter to?—”

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