Chapter 2 - The Black Car Outside Her Door
The Maybach didn't take Nema to a warehouse.
That was encouraging.
It took her downtown.
Less encouraging.
The car stopped beneath a private entrance to a glass tower.
Vincent opened her door.
"Come."
"You're not very conversational."
"I've been told."
They rode an elevator to the top floor.
When the doors opened, Nema entered an enormous office overlooking the city.
Dom Vasquez stood beside the windows.
No coat today.
Black shirt.
Dark trousers.
Sleeves rolled slightly above his wrists.
"Miss Reyes."
"Nema."
He turned.
"Nema."
She stayed near the elevator.
"If you're going to kill me, I'd appreciate knowing before somebody charges me for parking."
Vincent coughed behind her.
Dom's mouth almost moved.
Almost.
"I'm not going to kill you."
"Great."
"Sit."
"I'd rather stand."
"As you wish."
On the desk was a clear evidence bag.
Inside it was the wax paper.
Nema recognized it immediately.
Dom noticed.
"We tested the residue."
"And?"
"Enough poison to stop my heart."
Nema swallowed.
Dom walked closer.
"You saved my life."
"I ruined a shirt."
"You deliberately knocked over my coffee."
"Prove it."
Dom stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed once.
Quietly.
"You don't frighten easily."
"I'm terrified."
"Then you're good at hiding it."
Nema pulled up her sleeve.
The bruise around her wrist was visible.
Dom's expression hardened.
"Tommy did that?"
"You watched him."
"I did."
"Then why ask?"
"Because I wanted to hear you say it."
Nema lowered her sleeve.
"Where is he?"
"Somewhere he can't hurt you."
She studied Dom.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
Dom walked behind his desk.
"Tommy Russo and I knew each other for twenty-two years."
Nema blinked.
"Twenty-two?"
"We grew up together."
"And he tried to poison you?"
"Apparently friendship has an expiration date."
"Why?"
"We're finding out."
Dom pushed a folder toward her.
Nema didn't touch it.
"What is that?"
"Your life."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Excuse me?"
"Three months behind on your electric bill. Medical debt from your mother's final year. Two jobs until the restaurant on Mercer Street closed. Now Frank's six nights a week."
Nema's face changed.
"You investigated me."
"I had to know whether Tommy paid you."
"Paid me?"
"To stage what happened."
Her voice sharpened.
"I saved your life and you investigated whether I was part of it?"
"Yes."
"You're unbelievable."
"I've survived because I don't confuse gratitude with stupidity."
Nema turned toward the elevator.
"I'm leaving."
"Wait."
She stopped.
Dom opened a drawer.
He placed a set of keys on the desk.
Nema looked at them.
"No."
"You don't even know what they're for."
"The car?"
"Yes."
Nema laughed.
"No."
Dom frowned.
"No?"
"I don't want your car."
"It costs more than your building."
"Exactly."
"Most people would accept."
"Most people wouldn't know what to do when their neighbors ask why a waitress suddenly owns a Maybach."
Dom considered that.
"Fair."
"Also, I can't afford the insurance."
Vincent looked away, hiding a grin.
Dom picked up the keys.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing."
"You saved my life."
"I didn't do it for payment."
"Everyone wants something."
"Then maybe you should meet better people."
The room went silent.
Vincent looked at Dom.
Nema immediately wondered whether she'd gone too far.
Dom merely said, "You're going to need protection."
"From Tommy?"
"From whoever convinced Tommy to betray me."
Nema's expression changed.
"You think somebody else was involved."
"I know somebody else was involved."
"Then why am I in danger?"
"Because Tommy knows you saw him."
Nema's anger disappeared.
"Is he free?"
Dom didn't answer.
That was enough.
Nema whispered, "You said he couldn't hurt me."
"He can't right now."
"That's different."
"Yes."
Dom walked around the desk.
"I can move you somewhere secure."
"No."
"Nema—"
"I am not becoming your prisoner because your friends can't behave."
Dom's jaw tightened.
"Then Vincent stays with you."
She stared at the enormous bodyguard.
"Where?"
"Near you."
"I live in a one-bedroom apartment."
Vincent said, "I'll manage."
Nema looked between them.
"This is insane."
Dom picked up his coat.
"Welcome to my week."
That evening, Nema returned to Frank's.
Her manager, Frank Delaney, stared at the bruise on her wrist.
"What happened?"
"Customer."
"Did you call the cops?"
"No."
"Nema—"
The bell rang.
She froze.
Three men entered.
None was Tommy.
But all three looked at her.
One smiled.
"Evening."
Nema stepped backward.
The largest man approached the counter.
"You Nema?"
Before she could answer, a voice came from booth six.
"No."
Vincent stood.
The man's smile disappeared.
Vincent buttoned his jacket.
"She's nobody you need to speak to."
The three strangers exchanged glances.
Then left.
Nema stared at Vincent.
"You were sitting there the entire time?"
"Yes."
"I didn't see you."
"That's generally the idea."
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
"Nema?"
Tommy's voice.
Her blood turned cold.
May you like
"You should've stayed invisible."
The call ended.
