Page 47 of An Eye For Illusion

I climb into the driver’s seat, shove the clutch in, put the gearshift in neutral, and press the gas pedal a couple of times to give it a little gas before engaging the brake. I press the two sets of twisted wires together, and the engine roars to life.

Hot damn, I fucking did it! my brain shouts in celebration. I’m both shocked and filled with relief that it worked.

That mental celebration dies when the carport lights turn on, and I find a man standing with a shotgun pointed at me through the windshield. It takes me a moment to realize who I’m looking at, but as soon as I do, I see a familiar face is behind the gun.

Vinny.

I fucking knew it!

“Ha! I told you this guy is legit!” I hear Frankie’s voice before I see him. He walks out of the house and past Vinny as another familiar face flanks him.

Elliott Moore.

Vinny lowers the gun, and I kill the engine before putting the car back in gear so it won’t roll away. I slowly step out, close the heavy car door, and cautiously make my way around.

Vinny holds his hand out for me to shake. “Vincent Maggio. The guys call me Vinny.” He puffs his chest as he says his last name, clearly proud of who he is.

I extend my hand. “Jax.”

He studies me for a moment, not releasing my hand. “You got a last name, Jax?”

“Just Jax,” I challenge him. It isn’t unusual for criminals to want a little anonymity, though I don’t doubt Vinny isn’t one to appreciate that.

After squeezing my hand, he lets it go. “Alright, Jax. I’m sure you’re a smart man. I assume by now you figured out this was a test. I gotta say… I’m impressed you passed as easily as you did. Frankie said you asked about security measures, and he lied out his ass. Even the barking dog didn’t deter you.” He adds the last bit with a chuckle.

Moore hasn’t spoken a word since he walked out with Frankie. He hasn’t reacted like he recognizes me either, and another wave of relief comes.

Dino and Carlo finally walk out. Dino has a big smile on his face, but Carlo looks pissed.

I can’t help myself because I’m a cocky bastard, and I want to lighten his mood. Maybe it’ll throw him off me. “What’s wrong, man? Didn’t think I could hack it?” I chuckle.

Carlo doesn’t speak. He spits on the ground only mere feet in front of me and turns his back to walk inside.

Before I realize it, my joking expression falls, and obvious irritation replaces it, my nostrils flaring. I was joking, and everyone here knows it if their laughter is any indication. Carlo outright being a disrespectful little shit sets my already frayed nerves on edge.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Vinny says, clearly taking notice of my mood change. “I’ll handle Carlo.” He turns to walk inside after Carlo, and Moore follows closely behind him.

Frankie comes up and throws his arm around my neck before dragging me toward the house. I guess we’re going in. My anxiety ramps up the closer we get to the door.

I don’t know what the hell is in that house except Vinny, who has a shotgun, and Carlo, who seems to hate me. Not a good fucking combo.

“Relax, man. Vinny wants to talk to you about the car. Since you passed the test, it looks like you got the job,” Frankie says, as he releases me. He swings open the door and heads inside without hesitation.

I take a second to release the tension in my shoulders as I follow. Dino comes in right behind me. Instead of following Frankie to the living room, he veers off into the kitchen and pokes his head into the refrigerator for a beer.

He calls out over his shoulder, “Want one?”

Frankie answers first, “Yeah, man. Bring me the one we were drinking last night.”

I stay quiet as I follow Frankie into the relatively open but small living room. Vinny, Carlo, and Moore are nowhere to be seen.

“You want a beer, kid?” Frankie asks when I don’t answer Dino.

“No, I’m good.” It would sure as hell help settle my nerves, but I need to stay clear headed for this.

“Suit yourself,” Dino says as he enters the small space and heads to an open seat on a couch that’s seen better days. He tosses Frankie the beer he asked for as he props his legs up on the coffee table.

“Make yourself at home, Jax. The boss will be right back,” Frankie says as he leans against the trim in the opening between the living room and the entryway.

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