Page 53 of Vigilante
“I’m not sure.” I shrug.
The four of us walk through the aisles of other fliers all the way to the front of the plane and right into first-class seating.
“These will be your seats for the?—”
“There must be some mistake,” I protest softly.
The stewardess grins, taking a step closer to lower her voice. “Damon asked me to relay a message. Now you owe him big time.” She smirks, and I return the expression. “He informed me of what you did for those of us who couldn’t.” Taking a card from her pocket, she hands it to me. “My brother lost his life last year. So, if you need anything in the future, any of you,” she looks at the four of us, “call that number, and The Missionaries will extract you.” Stepping back, she plants another smile on herface. “Enjoy your flight on Virgin Flights. Drinks and food will be served soon.”
She squeezes between us and goes about her job.
“What the fuck was that about?” Rocco steps up.
“Damon got in contact with The Missionary.” I chuckle. “At this rate, I’ll owe him my first-born son.”
“Slippery fucker.” Rocco snorts.
We place our bags in the overhead compartments and settle into our first-class seats. Tasha and Rocco have a cubicle to themselves, while my girl and I have the same a few seats away. Both of us buckle in, and I’ll never grow tired of seeing the grin on Julia’s face.
Turning to face me, she leans forward, placing a kiss on my cheek. “We did it.”
“We did it,” I repeat.
“And just so you know, Damon isnotgetting our first-born son.” She pokes my chest playfully.
Pulling her closer to me, I wrap my arms around her, breathing her lemon and sandalwood scent into my nostrils. “You want babies with me,Bella?”
“I want whatever we can get.”
And that right there, tells me all I need to know.
Julia
SIX MONTHS LATER
Rocco’s picture is notorious.It’s plastered all over social media, and people wonder what happened to their hero and why he mysteriously disappeared. They’re calling him the People’s Vengeance—their masked Vigilante.
There are even some groups dedicated to thirsting over him, which Tasha claims to have gone straight to his already inflated ego.
The murder started a chain reaction in the people, calling for reform. While there’s massive pushback, it’s a start. A change in the system that’s failing millions.
Naturally, we’ve all had to alter our appearance while being in hiding. Rocco took out his eyebrow piercing and shaved his head. Max’s signature dark locks have been cut and dyed to a reddish hue, and Tasha and I have matching dark brunette hair that masks our foreign origins. My hair was cut to my shoulders, which was the perfect choice for the summer heat.
As we walk through the piazza, Mt. Etna’s glowing lava sputters into the air in the distance. My Italian is terrible, but I’m learning.
Max’s hand firmly holds mine as we amble together while Rocco and Tasha follow behind, elbows interlocked.
The air smells of fresh spices from the open market right around the corner. We’re lost in a sea of tourists and locals as they weave in and out of the street. Some stopping right in front of us to take pictures.
At least everyone is too busy to notice us hiding in plain sight.
We take our haul of fresh groceries back to the two-bedroom house we’re sharing that’s perched above the water. The view is breathtaking, spanning over the sparkling water dotted with yachts and fishing boats. You can feel the history here, and there’s a palpable energy of happiness amongst the people, making it easy to lose yourself.
Max and Rocco have been showing us all their favorite sights, even taking us up to Rome and then Venice for a weekend.
I thought leaving my life behind would be hard, but this proves to be anything but. In fact, having Max makes it easy. And with my best friend nearby, we’re living our best life. A life I had never even dreamed of having, but now I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how beautiful this view is,” I say as Max snakes his hands around my middle.
