“You’d guess correctly.” Like I want to stand here and listen to my younger sister lecture me about relationships? Hell no. The thought of Violet leaving… and she always does what she says she will… I can’t.
I watch the door close behind Violet.
Looks like he recognized her. He didn’t send her back out here. Therefore… something’s going on in there.
“Aw, man, Cain. The most important thing in the world to Violet is trust. You know that.”
“I do, it’s why I feel like an ass and really don’t need reminding of this.” I don’t want to talk to my sister about relationships. Instead, I’m watching everything in the bank, my mind roving over the name again. Castellano. Castellano…
“So how’d you get her to come here, then, if she didn’t know you were tracking her?”
With a grimace, I tell her everything that matters. By the time I get to the end, her head’s buried in her hands. “Nooooo,” she moans. “You didn’t.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Ugh. Where the fuck are they?
“Alright, then. There’s nothing left for it but to grovel, brother.”
“Grovel?”
“Ohhh, yeah. You have to pull out all the stops. Like all of them. She doesn’t want you to buy her things, but that monster truck she’s been eying might be nice, and perhaps a wee mini pit bull puppy would also be great. Maybe some of those killer high-heeled boots she’s wanted…”
She’ll have all of them by the time we’re back. I’m texting Joe now. I’m not sure it’ll make a damn difference.
“Noted.”
“Now, none of those things will actually get her to forgive you, though, you know that right? It’s just like an act of goodwill.”
“Right. So how do I get her to forgive me?”
She frowns. “This might be harder than I thought.” She taps her chin thoughtfully.
“I believe in you,” I mutter.
“Well… Violet really needs to know she can trust you, so I think the single best way for you to establish that trust?”
“Yeah?”
“Back off and let her handle this. You don’t need to swoop in and save her, no matter how tempting that is. Okay?”
I groan. “Okay.”
My phone rings. Joe. “Yeah?”
“Boss, my tracking says Violet’s in the GWW bank.”
“She is. I’m outside.”
“I see that as well.”
“Something I need to know, Joe, or you just miss me?”
“That bank’s owned by the Castellanos.”
There they are again. Motherfucker.
“Tell me again why that name means something.”
“Castellano—Armand’s mother’s maiden name, sir.”
I look sharply at the bank, willing Violet to emerge. “Fuck. You guys find him?”
“No, sir.”
“I’m going in. Spot me.”
“On it.”
Skylar’s opening the door, her eyes sparking. She hasn’t trained to my satisfaction but damn it if I don’t need a second pair of eyes and hands right about now. As we enter, a mother with two little kids sucking on lollipops exits, and Skylar nearly loses her balance. The bank’s crowded, people milling about in line and at various windows. It’s hard to get a read on where Violet is.
“Where is she?” I ask Sky on a whisper. “Do you see his room at all?”
She shakes her head, frowning. Nothing. I feel the tension in the air, and I know we’re being watched. Armand… fucking Armand. He’s behind this, but to what extent? For how long? And what does his mother’s family have to do with this?
“I see her,” Skylar hisses, jerking her chin to the far-right corner of the room. Violet has emerged from an opening door, her chin held high and a glimmer of a smile on her lips. I half-expect someone to come up with a pistol, an alarm to go off… but everything’s remarkably calm. Eerily calm, even. I see one teller look at another, then look my way. In the corner, a security guard talks on a walkie-talkie. Classical music plays in the background.
Skylar frowns, as Violet walks toward us.
“You look down. Why?”
“I wanted a shoot-out,” she says. “In on the action.”
A few people look our way. I roll my eyes and take her hand to tug her toward the exit where we meet Violet. “It’s overrated,” I mutter.
“You look as happy as a lark,” I say to Violet. “Good news?”
“Wait and seeeee,” she sings happily, and for one brief moment it looks like the old Violet’s back. The fierce, independent, indefatigable woman I fell in love with. I’m still in love with.
I have to let her go.
The door to the bank shuts behind me, and I follow the girls to our truck. Still, no one comes riding in with a semi, no one follows us with a gun. Someone’s watching us, though. I know it.
On the street behind the bank, another sleek black car slowly drives by. I catch Skylar’s eye. She saw them, too.
We climb back into our ride.
“Spill,” Skylar orders Violet.
“Got the money,” Violet says with a triumphant grin. “He knew who I was when I went in and showed him my I.D. I told him that I was the daughter of Russell and Anya Bates, and that I had reason to believe they’d stored their money here, at this bank. And voilà.” She shows me a small gold key with a flourish, and a bank statement.