Page 2 of Redemption

CHLOE:He has an app that gives him access to everything in my phone.

ME:Now she tells me. ***eyeroll***

CHLOE:Oops.

“She’s such a little shit!I hope she gives him hell.” I pace around my hotel room in Paris. The train ticket to Italy is on the app on my other burner. I haven’t been back since I left huddled under an old carpet in the trunk of a car. Maybe, if I go revisit the past, I can put my future to bed. Maybe, going back is my only way forward.

Roque won’t be far behind with Hans Henderson on his payroll. I tried to hire Hans myself only to be told by the black-market broker that Hans signed an agreement with Roque not to take me on as a client. I pull my wig on, add a beanie ski hat and puffer coat, shielding my eyes once again with oversized sunglasses. It’s time to confront the ghosts of my past.

Just as I’m about to board my cell dings. I half expect it to be Roque using his ways to gain access to my burner but it’s not Roque. It’s a different devil. One I never saw coming but who has me in his clutches, nonetheless.

“Ms. Fiorelli. You failed to check in yesterday.”

“Sue me,” I sneer.

“Be in my office by 5.”

“Sorry. I can’t make that.”

“You best cooperate, or my office will have no choice but to prosecute and I’ll let I.C.E handle the rest.”

“Why to deport me?”

“Yes, back to Italy.”

I grin. “Too late Mr. FBI I’m already on my way there.”

He’s silent. Take that!

“Second thoughts on turning in your ex-lover?”

“I never agreed to hand you Roque.”

“Fine. Interpol will be waiting for you on your arrival.”

“Fuck you, Jack.”

“I don’t do felons and you Romina Fiorelli are one. You have one last chance to gain your freedom or do time for your crimes. Using fake US passports alone could get your life never mind that you were smuggled in illegally as a child. You have no papers, no legit US Id. Face it, you’re a ghost Romina.”

“I’ve always been a ghost Jack. Your threats don’t mean shit to me.”

“Hand me Salvatore and you can start over anywhere you want.”

“You don’t have enough leverage on me to make me care.”

“Do you know a Keisha Evans?” My heart drops. This time I’m the silent one as he speaks. “She never told you did, she? Maybe she was ashamed about it… her ex-husband Terry Evans worked her over. She fled with her boy and pressed charges, but he made parole. It was only his first offense. He’s due to get out in two weeks…. I can stall and make something stick on him if I have your cooperation of course.”

Fucking K. She always had to be with an athlete. Terry almost went pro but he got injured in one of his last games. He became a drinker, but K never told me he also became abusive. She knew I’d drop everything to rescue her ass and I get it. Once you’re past a certain age a woman doesn’t want to be recued or chastised for her bad choices. But still. K should’ve told me.

“If and I mean if—I give you one crumb of evidence against him I want a contract. I want in writing that bastard never touches K again and I want full immunity for anything I’ve done past or present. Romina Fiorelli will have dual citizenship and I don’t ever want to hear from you or your office again.”

“That better be one titanic crumb. I’ll be in touch.”

I throw the burner against the wall. It shatters into pieces. I was so busy running from Roque and Gabriella’s goons that I never saw the FBI coming. Gabriella tipped off someone from Interpol on her family’s payroll that I lived illegally in the U.S. She knew I was in Princeton and everything Zio worked so hard to conceal unraveled. None of it went public as long as I “cooperated.” The Feds want Roque. Badly. I’m facing a lifetime of charges. Gabriella wanted to make damn sure if she couldn’t have her ever after with Roque that I couldn’t either. Little did she know I’ve always doubted I could anyway.

I was on a tear after I saw Roque with Chloe in Chicago, I stopped at a diner on my way to LA where two men in suits approached my table. “Hello Romina Fiorelli. We’ve been looking for you.” The man was handsome, but his eyes were cold. Colder than two chips of Arctic ice. He told me his sister was a victim of the mob. She was FBI and has worked in New York and that Roque had her killed. He showed me a picture of her. She was pretty, with so much light in her eyes. They never found her body. He suspects Johnny was involved and hauled him in but couldn’t make anything stick, thanks to Roque.

Then the agent showed me pictures that had me gagging on my food. Images I still can’t get out of my head. Those combined with my anger at seeing Roque with some teenage girl had me agreeing to do whatever they wanted as long as I could stay free. Now, I’m trapped in someone else’s thirst for revenge on Roque and if I don’t comply…all that running I’ve done since that day in the woods will be for nothing. The thing is I’m still torn. I still can’t decide if Roque is redeemable or not.

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