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“Yes.”
“Well, then you’ll put two and two together.”Because it’s time that he helps me. We’re kidnapping my future wife tonight.
* * *
Big Tony followsme to an alley a few blocks away from the bar Gina threatened me to meet her at. I back my truck into the narrow street, then climb into his van.
The back has no seats, no carpet—makes it easy to clean up messes, namely DNA. “Tony, she’ll have an Uber ready when she comes out. You’ll need to intercept her in the lot. I’ll open the sliding door, snatch her in.”
“Santino, I don’t like this.”
“You like certain liberties, such as walking. You appreciate breathing?”
He huffs.
“Thought so.”
Snorting, Big Tony backs into the closest parking space to the door. “I remember when you were a good guy.”
“I do too.” I nod in agreement. We sit and wait.
“Is that her, Santi? She’s about the most beautiful black woman I ever laid eyes on,” Tony mutters.
Feels like I’m staring at Gina Galloway an entire hour. She’s in a pearl blouse, and pants fit like a glove, stitched to every arc of her body. Her hips glide as fluid as the fucking ocean. Her elegant face is a tad rounder, her hips even more so.
“That’s her . . .”
Just as a car starts for the curb, Tony cuts him off. The right tires bounce up the curb. Gina lets out a screech when I open the sliding door, my arm scoops around her waist. I snatch her inside. People are screaming in the background that someone’s being taken.
“Hello, future wife.”
38
Gina
Justice was offering to walk me out on her break when I declined. She was telling me that, depending on the weather, she might not be here the next time I came by. That she was a drifter. I toyed with the idea of how for the last few days, I’ve done a little drifting of my own. I could go off the grid like Geraldine did. I have enough savings to toss my middle fingers to the world.
I’m glancing at my cell phone to confirm the vehicle make and model for my Uber ride—as Thomas wasn’t logged on.
“Watch out!” I hear from behind me.
A van swoops in front of me. It’s so close that the engine warms my frozen body. A strong arm grabs me around the waist.
My legs and arms fly into action, but I’m tackled onto the steel floor of the van. The most attractive face I’ve seen in my life looks down at me.
“Hello, future wife,” Santino says in Italian. My body starts to roll with the quick movement of the van, but he presses himself against me.
“Stop, please!”
His hand rests along my throat. “I’ve missed you.”
“You’re crazy!Crazy!”
“We’re both crazy,sweetheart.” He winks.
“You,” I squeak, looking to the side at the fat guy in the front. “Driver, I’ll pay you $10,000 to help me get away from this—”
“Your fucking future husband!”
