Kayden cranks the engine and turns on the heat. “I have a gift for you,” he announces, unbuttoning his jacket to reach inside, and produces a small leather pouch the size of a makeup bag.
My eyes light as he hands it to me, the steely weight familiar in my hands. “I know what this is, and it’s perfect.”
“You do, huh? What is it?”
I unsnap the pouch and remove the small handgun, fitting it in my small palm. “A Ruger LCP. Small enough for a bra strap and a garter. I freaking love it. Charlie just got retired.”
“Who the hell is Charlie?”
I face him. “I remembered my father’s name today. He was Charlie, and I named my Glock after the man who taught me to shoot.” I hold up the Ruger, and right then my memory produces an image of my mother. “This is Annie,” I say. “My mother, whose name I remembered just this second.” I settle the Ruger on top of my lap. “Kayden, I’m starting to remember and it’s really exciting and scary. Just random things—like I could say, this is my favorite gun or food or movie, and know it’s right. I didn’t think like that before today.”
“Why exactly is that scary?”
“Because,” I say, my tone turning somber, “I, too, need you to be able to handle the good, the bad, and the very damn ugly if there is some. And I’m pretty sure there will be.”
“Nothing is going to change how I feel about you,” he says, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. “Nothing, Ella.”
“Yet when I say that to you, you don’t believe me.”
He studies me for several moments. “I guess we both need to have a little faith in who we are together.”
“It’s hard, isn’t it?”
“Nothing worth having—”
“Comes easily.”
Approval lights his eyes. “Exactly.”
“Marabella told me she used to say that to you.”
“Marabella has said a lot of wise things to me over the years,” he says, releasing my hand to pull his sleeve back again.
This time when I see his watch, I flash back to the memory I had in the shower. A man’s wrist. That watch just below a starched white shirt and jacket sleeve. His hand on my bare arm.
“Donati should be arriving right about the same time as us,” Kayden says, shifting back into his seat.
I blink back into the moment. “You know when the police chief is going to arrive?”
“Friends in high and convenient places,” he says, hitting the remote above his visor to lower the wall behind us.
I turn to watch it slide away, in awe of this modern feature in the historical architecture. “I still can’t get over how cool that is.”
“Remind me to show you how to get to the visitors’ garage.” He backs up and turns the car toward the exit ramp, then faces the car forward as the wall slides back into place.
“There’s a second garage?”
“That’s right,” he says. “Visitors, like Carlo yesterday, have a separate parking area and entry point.”
“Some would say you’re paranoid.”
“Not paranoid enough,” he says, driving us into a cloudless, dark night. “Otherwise Enzo would be alive right now. Raul is lucky he’s not dead right now, but he will pay for what he did.”
“Good,” I hiss, remembering the moment Nathan set those paddles down and declared Enzo dead. “What are you going to do?”
“He’s a fucking drug dealer,” he says, driving toward the gate that’s now sliding open. “Once I’m done with him, I’m going to get him the hell out of my territories and make him wish he never came.”
“Are you doing a hunt for him?” I ask as he pulls onto the road and shuts the gate behind us.