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Tuck pushed off the edge of a beat-up desk as the man who had walked Renzo into the warehouse stepped out of the way to showcase him standing just behind him in the doorway. “You got what I wanted, or what?”

Renzo pulled out the wad of cash he’d taken from the barber’s shitty safe, and handed it over when Tuck came close enough to grab it. Tuck counted the cash, and didn’t even bother to hide the scowl that skipped over his lips when there was only a little over three thousand in his hands.

“Where’s the rest?”

Renzo pulled out the few items he’d taken off Connie, and out of the man’s small office at his barber shop. A watch, and a wedding ring. Nothing that was going to make up the rest of that two-thousand, anyway.

What could Renzo do?

Nothing.

Money didn’t fucking magically appear, after all.

“That’s what I’ve got for you there,” Renzo said.

Tuck grumbled under his breath, but took all the items anyway before shoving it on the desk behind him. Folding his arms over his chest, he faced Renzo once more. “No problems, then? He got the point? Because I can always go back for the rest in a couple of weeks when he’s … feeling a little better, I suppose.”

Yeah, that was the thing …

“There’s nothing to go back for,” Renzo replied, shrugging. “He tried to come at me with a sawed-off shotgun. He’s dead.”

Tuck’s face hardened.

Renzo kept quiet.

“Shit happens sometimes,” the guy in the chair next to the desk muttered out of the corner of his mouth where a lit joint bounced on his lips. “You know how it is, Tuck.”

Tuck sucked in air through his tight lips, and his gaze turned on Renzo again. “Yeah, I know how it fucking is. Guess we’re gonna call that even, then, Ren. You and me, I mean. You still want some work, or what? I’ve got a few things coming up.”

Renzo wanted to say sure, as long as it wasn’t another job like the one he just did. But frankly, at the moment, he couldn’t afford to be very picky about what work he did or didn’t take. “Yeah, Tuck. Whatever, I’m up for it. Good for it, you know.”

The man nodded. “Good, be on call. I’ll let you know. By the way …”

He’d already turned to leave the warehouse because he really just wanted to get back to Lucia and Diego, now. This whole night had been a little too much for him. He was ready for it to be over.

Staring at Tuck over his shoulder, Renzo asked, “Yeah, what?”

“Nothing else you wanna tell me, right? You’re good and all, yeah? No shit is gonna come my way because of you, right, Ren?”

It was a strange question.

And it wasn’t at the same time.

Renzo couldn’t give an honest answer either way. He was trying not to bring trouble here, but who fucking knew if it would come nonetheless?

“No, I’m good. It’s all good,” Renzo echoed.

Tuck nodded. “All right. I’ll be seeing you, man.”

Yeah.

Probably too soon for comfort.

NINE

One day in Vegas melted into two, and then three. Before Lucia had blinked, they’d been there for almost a week. It felt like they were getting into something akin to a rhythm here. Between taking care of Diego, Renzo heading out to work at all hours of the day and night, and Lucia waiting for when he would have to leave … days melted into one another.

That wasn’t a bad thing.