Page 26 of The Prizes We Win
“I’ll be nice,” he grumbles.
“But not too nice!” I add quickly.
“I’m a bull rider, Joe. I’m nothing if not nice.” I can practically hear him wink through the phone. “Oh, hey. What’s going on with Dad?”
“Nothing. He’s still downstairs, acting like his shit doesn’t stink. He’s told me nothing I want to know, but I’ll tell you the second he does.”
“Fucking asshole,” he mumbles angrily under his breath. “Okay. Get her a new phone and give her all of our numbers. Have her text me when she’s leaving JFK.”
I look over at Seb and he nods his head. “Okay, I will. Talk to you soon.”
“Bye, Joe Joe.”
Jasper hangs up the phone and I look around at the guys. “We have to stop doing this to him. One of these days he’s really going to have a coronary.”
Dante chuckles into his cup of coffee before saying, “They seem like good men.”
“They’re the best.” And I mean that with every ounce of my entire being.
“We can’t wait to meet them,” Luca says, rubbing his hand down the back of my head.
“Me too.” I kiss him quickly, take my last swig of coffee, and rise from my chair. “Alright, Seb, how long would it take you to whip her up a new identity and get her a new I.D.?”
“Pshhh. Child’s play, Love. Give me a couple hours,” he answers with a cocky grin.
“Perfect. Once you do that, book her the ticket. Dante and Enzo, figure out a safe way to get her to the airport. And you, boss man”—I look down at Luca—“transfer her enough money to make her life comfortable for a while. The last thing she needs after everything she has been through is to worry about how she’s going to feed herself.”
“Not a problem, Vita Mia. Consider it done.”
They didn’t need me to give them directions like that. They could have figured this all out for themselves. Hell, it’s what they do. And they’ve done things far more complicated than this. But they let me speak. They let me be in charge, and they didn’t even bat an eye over it. And as I look down at the four of them seated at the table, I know none of them even thought twice about it. Letting me be strong is as easy as breathing for them.
And that’s what Anya needs. She needs to be around people who will let her be as strong as the woman who ran for her life last night.
“Alright, boys, I’m gonna go wake up our girl and fill her in on the plan.”
“Okay, Mama,” Dante answers with a wink.
Turning on the balls of my feet, I trot up the stairs. I’m almost halfway up when I hear Enzo whistle and yell, “Uhhh, that ass!”
I tip my head back in laughter and let the sounds of their deep chuckles warm me from the inside out.
Several hours later, Dante, Enzo, and I are outside of JFK, ready to drop off Anya, or should I say, Abigail Adams, for her flight to Billings. After I went upstairs and told her the plan, she agreed. I could tell she was hesitant, but I don’t blame her in the slightest. She’s scared, and she has every right to be. But she knows as well as the rest of us that her life in New York is over. Everything she once knew is gone. She may not like it, but she understands it. And somehow, I got her to trust me enough to know that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
Yet, when I look over at her, she’s not unbuckling or grabbing the bags filled with all of the essentials I had sent to the apartment for her this afternoon. Instead, she’s looking down at her lap and fidgeting with the seatbelt. It’s then I see a single stray tear fall from her eyes. Quickly, I unbuckle and scoot across the back seat while Dante and Enzo give death glares to the airport employee who’s trying to get us to move out of the dropoff lane.
It’s like having scary dog privileges.
“Hey, everything will be okay. You have all of our numbers in that phone, you have the new bank card and I.D., you have enough essentials to last you a few weeks until you get settled, and then you have money to get you everything you should needfor a while. You focus on resting and getting better. They have you. You’ll be safe at the ranch, Anya.”
She sniffles. “I-I just don’t understand why you are doing this for me. You—you don’t even know me.”
I look at Dante’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Because… Because we know how it feels to be hurt by the people who are supposed to love you the most. To be treated like garbage. And we also know how meeting the right people can change your life. And we want to give that to you. It’s who they are.” Enzo turns to look at me. “It’s whoweare.”
Slowly, I reach up and tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear. Caressing her cheek with the pad of my thumb, the way I remember my mom doing whenever I was upset. She inhales a shaky breath before wiping her nose with the back of her hand and sitting up straight. “You’ve got this, Anya. I know you do.”
“Abigail,” she corrects me with a half-hearted smile.
“Abigail,” I agree before wrapping her in my arms. “You call me if there’s anything you need, okay?”
