Page 30 of Leaving Lando

Already Warm

It’s beengreat jamming with my old band, but I haven’t been able to fully enjoy it since Lando’s disappearance. Part of my brain is wondering what he’s up to and if everything’s okay. We’re just finishing up a song when a ripple moves through the crowd and I see Lando pushing through.

He grabs Romero and they huddle together, throwing occasional glances my way. I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Rome goes over to Carlo, and Lando comes to me.

“Jeeter’s in trouble. I’ve got to go.”

“Fuck, Lando.” After our earlier discussion, my mind can conjure all sorts of awful possibilities. “Be careful.”

“I’m going to be very careful. I’m bringing backup. I need you to stay here and stay safe, so I’m not worried about you.”

I nod. “I will. I promise.”

He gives me a quick, hard kiss. “I’ll see you soon.”

Carlo’s on his phone. I know from our problems with Santiago and the farm that he’s an ex-military guy who has his own team of commando types now. Despite my worry, it’s fascinating to see how different he looks when he’s in work mode. It’s as if the civilized veneer has dropped away, and he’s all dark danger.

I bet Gina finds that really hot.

There’s a blur of activity around me now, everyone packing up to leave. Then Lando says something to Tonio, who says something to one of the other men, and within seconds they’ve all settled in again. A chill runs down my spine. What exactly are we dealing with, that they want everyone to stay here instead of going home?

Then Tonio comes over to me, his face grim. “Lando tells me you’re a good shot.”

Holy shit. I answer him with the same seriousness. “Yes. I am.”

“You know how to use a rifle?”

Oh fuck fuck fuck. “I do.”

“There’s a chance — remote, but not nonexistent — that some bad guys could turn up here. If they do, we might need you.”

My heart is pounding. “I understand.”

He turns to the band, who are huddled a few feet away. “Are you okay with hanging here for a little while?” They nod, faces pale. They’ve got even less of an idea what’s happening than I do, but maybe they caught part of my conversation with Tonio.

“If you feel like playing some more, that’d be good. Help keep everyone distracted.”

“Did you bring any acoustic guitars?” I ask them.

“Yeah,” Tina says. “We’ve got a lot more stuff out in our cars, that we brought just in case.”

I look at Tonio. “Can they get an escort out to their cars?”

“Yeah. I’ll set that up.”

When he’s gone, the band huddles around me. “Bree,” Tina whispers, “what the fuck is going on?”

“I’m not sure, exactly.” There’s a crazed criminal causing trouble is not a conversation we really need to have. “We’re just being extra cautious for now.”

When the band gets back with their instruments, we start an acoustic set. Most of the men have left now, but some new guys I don’t recognize have arrived. They must be private security for Tonio, because they confer with him and then disperse.

Food is not a problem; there’s enough to feed two armies. Children fuss and are soothed; people drift in and out of the room, occasionally bringing back plates of food to graze on. No one’s saying much.

Quinn and Jade are sitting side by side against one wall, holding hands. They’ve got Adamos to either side of them. Women give them babies to hold, squeeze their hands in passing, offer them food.

Under the circumstances, some resentment would be understandable. My sisters and I are, in a sense, the cause of all the disruption, even though it’s not our fault Santiago targeted us, or that Jeeter’s in danger. But no one’s making any distinction between us and them.

To the Adamos, we’re already family.

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