Page 108 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
“Then again, I’ve been gone a long time…” She grabs my hand, pulling me closer. “My name’s Joan. Oh, those are gorgeous rings.”
She touches my wedding band and the engagement ring I want to hate, even though they are beautiful. I just smile, not quite sure I’m getting what she’s giving off.
I’m not sure I like her, but then again, I’ve helped all kinds of women… those who’ve made my skin crawl, as well as utterly self-entitled creatures. No one should be trapped in a dangerous situation, and in the scheme of things, this Joan person just rubs me the wrong way, that’s all.
Nerves. That’s what it is.
Joan’s nervous like most women who come seeking help. That’s the air around her, someone who’s trying to find a way in, so I do what I normally do and just let her speak. She’s confident, way more so than many of them, and I do wonder if a mafia man caught her eye, married her, and when she came out of the love fog—as one woman I helped put it—she realized what she got herself into.
It happens.
Probably more often than most people realize.
At least I’m one of the other ones, the ones with eyes wide open.
And maybe, I concede, I’m lucky in that my husband’s not as horrifying as I thought.
Then again, I set that bar pretty fucking low.
“These roses are so pretty.” She runs her fingers along one and then the tiny tea roses. The cream orchids were a lucky find.
“They definitely are. The flower warehouse is perfect. If I run into you there, I’ll give you a tour, show you the best tubs to pick from… Some are always better than others.” It’s a lame offer, but if she’s looking for help, she’ll agree and nod.
Which she does.
But then she leans in. “I’m looking to get out of this life. My friend Lara told me about you.”
Terror rips through me, clawing at my insides. No one’s supposed to tell anyone about this network. It’s not a word-of-mouth operation. That would be way too deadly… for everyone involved.
I swallow hard. “I think I met a nice woman called Lina or Lara a while back. She came by. Well, I hope to run intoyou again.”
She smiles, then turns and saunters down the aisle, a woman of confidence.
It makes me nervous that she’d been so bold, and I let out a soft sigh that she’s gone. It’s something I do when this helping business feels a little too out of control.
But I’m not worried about her. A woman like that would be resourceful. It’s the ones who feel downtrodden and have nowhere to go that I worry most about, and if I’m ever caught or, worse, the important people deep in the movement are compromised, then there’ll be really desperate women and children trapped.
But then again, a woman like that won’t let it slip.
I’m just on edge because of my life at the moment.
That has to be it.
I continue arranging the flowers, and when I’m about to pass into the sacristy, Father Luigi comes out of the confessional.
“The lady who is about to come out is feeling a little faint. Can you get her a drink of water? Or maybe something stronger?” He goes back into the confessional. When the other door finally opens, I’m still working out the little displays for either side of the confessional. The dark-haired beauty sits and waits.
I smile at her. “Would you like to come to the kitchen? I’ll get you a drink.”
She nods and offers a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you. I’m Ava, by the way.”
“I’m Hazel.”
In the kitchen, I clear a spot on the table for her.
“Confession can be a lot,” she says.
I half smile, noting the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. I’ve seen it before.
