Page 130 of Working for the Mob

I checked above me: the grunts were still deciding who to send down the rope first.

“Get out of here, Art,” I yelled.

“Genevieve, I’m an idiot. I should never have let you go. And Genny, I should've said it from the first moment I saw you: I LOVE YOU! And I’m never going to let you out of my sight again. I want to get married!”

I huffed. What perfect timing for him to decide he loved me while I was escaping the mob. No. Thebadmob.

“Just drop, dammit! I’ll catch you,” he said, and got under me. Now I definitely didn’t want to drop. Even with the goons overhead.

“I’m not speaking with you, Art.”

“Dammit, Genny. Just drop.”

“You can’t order me around anymore, Art. I’m not your employee. I––”

My hands gave out. I squeaked a cry of surprise and entered a free fall as my stomach jumped into my esophagus.

I fell straight down. Straight into Art’s open arms.

A fondness swept over his face.

“I love you,” he said.

I still wanted to punch his nose in.

Unfortunately, at that moment the drifter decided to shimmy down the rope. Maybe it was the fact that I finally let go.

Art placed me down.

“I’ll deal with this trash,” Art said, and readied himself at the bottom of the rope.

When Lem landed, Art threw a left hook at him. The drifter easily blocked it, and Art put his full weight into the next blow that connected with the side of Lem’s head. The drifter collapsed and didn’t move.

I checked if more Valuncias were coming down, but the window was vacant. It would’ve been three vs. one. Why would they leave?

“We need to get back to the car,” Art said, and gestured for me and Lucy to follow him.

Art stopped at the corner of the building and peaked around it. The gunshots had stopped. I didn’t remember when they stopped, but the night was quiet.

After a moment, Art signaled for us to follow him, but motioned to stay low.

He tiptoed around the corner, and his car came into view. Henry and George were there, crouched behind Art’s new car.

“Henry!” Lucy yelled and sprinted to him. They met halfway in between, and Lucy jumped into his arms and they twirled around with her legs out.

I tried to catch Art’s eye, but he watched them with a strained expression. I think I understood. That would’ve been us twelve hours ago.

I jumped at the roar of a car engine and headlights blinded me. I couldn’t see anything but the lights. I froze, not sure what to do.

The lights grew brighter and the roar escalated. I looked for a place to hide, but Art’s car was still yards away.

I barely heard Art’s voice, “Genevieve!” and all the air was knocked out of me as I collided with the asphalt.

My world turned fuzzy. I struggled to find my breath and reorient myself. The engine droned away and I was dimly aware of the taillights shrinking down the street.

What had happened?

I wheezed for air. Two firm hands held me and a voice was talking. But the voice was out of focus and far away. I concentrated on it like a radio trying to tune. I knew the voice. I wanted to hear that voice.

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