Chapter 2 - The Order
Daniel approached slowly.
Lena pushed herself against the counter.
“Don’t touch me.”
He stopped immediately.
Vincent looked at him.
Daniel stepped back.
Interesting.
One look from her had stopped a man who probably frightened people for a living.
Vincent crouched several feet away.
Not close enough to corner her.
“You’re Lena Cross?”
“How do you know?”
His eyes flicked toward her name tag.
She looked down.
“Oh.”
For the first time, something almost human crossed his face.
“You can stand?”
“Yes.”
She tried.
Her knees disagreed.
Vincent caught her elbow before she fell.
Lena stiffened.
He immediately released her.
“Sorry.”
She stared at him.
That was not a word she expected from Vincent Moretti.
“Call an ambulance,” he told Daniel.
“No.”
Vincent looked at her.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re sitting on broken ceramic.”
“I’ve had worse Thursdays.”
Dwight made a strangled sound that might have been laughter.
Vincent glanced at Jesse.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” Jesse said.
Lena laughed despite the pain.
“Apparently I throw myself behind counters for entertainment.”
Jesse glared at her.
Vincent noticed.
“Don’t look at her.”
Jesse turned back.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“It’s property business.”
“You need four men to discuss a lease?”
“She attacked me.”
Lena stared at him.
“I shoved you after you grabbed me.”
Vincent turned toward the customers.
“Did anyone see what happened?”
Silence.
Jesse smiled.
That smile told Lena everything about Belmore.
Everyone knew the Hollands.
Everyone knew what happened to people who crossed them.
Then Reggie stood.
“I saw it.”
Jesse’s smile disappeared.
The trucker raised his hand.
“So did I.”
Dwight said, “Me too.”
Vincent looked at Daniel.
“Names.”
Daniel began writing.
Jesse stepped forward.
“You don’t get to come into my town—”
Vincent looked at him.
Jesse stopped.
“My town?”
Two words.
Nothing more.
Yet Jesse stepped backward.
Vincent picked up the torn document.
He read it.
“Holland Development.”
“My father’s company.”
Vincent folded the pieces together.
“Your father still owns the old mill?”
Jesse hesitated.
“Yes.”
“And the trucking yard on County Nine?”
“Yes.”
Vincent nodded.
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Because Moretti Freight controls the contracts keeping both profitable.”
Jesse’s face drained.
Vincent handed the paper to Daniel.
“Call Wade Holland.”
Jesse swallowed.
“Don’t.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Now you understand what that word means.”
Police sirens sounded outside.
Lena looked at Dwight.
“You called?”
He shook his head.
Reggie raised his old flip phone.
“Still works.”
Two officers entered.
Their confidence lasted until they recognized Jesse.
Then Vincent.
The younger officer looked as though he wanted to leave.
Vincent stepped aside.
“Officer, Ms. Cross has several witnesses who say she was assaulted.”
Jesse snapped, “My father knows the chief.”
Vincent’s expression barely changed.
“That sounds like something you should repeat on camera.”
Jesse finally shut up.
The officers separated everyone.
An ambulance arrived.
Lena refused a stretcher but agreed to be examined.
Twenty minutes later, Jesse and his friends were escorted outside for questioning.
Vincent remained.
Lena sat in a booth with ice against her cheek.
“You can go,” she told him.
“I know.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
He looked toward the window.
“Because Wade Holland will hear about this before his son reaches the station.”
“So?”
“So men like Wade don’t correct mistakes. They bury them.”
Lena lowered the ice.
“And men like you?”
Vincent met her eyes.
“We remember them.”
She studied him.
“Why were you here?”
“My driver took the wrong exit.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“So I got lucky.”
His gaze moved to the broken coffee cup near the counter.
“I wouldn’t call tonight lucky.”
Lena almost smiled.
Vincent stood.
“I’ll have someone stay outside your apartment.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“Then the answer is still no.”
Daniel looked away, apparently hiding amusement.
Vincent stared at her.
People probably didn’t tell him no often.
Lena did it twice.
“I don’t want your men outside my home.”
“You’re afraid of me?”
“I’m afraid of owing you.”
That answer changed something.
Vincent buttoned his coat.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Good.”
“But someone stays.”
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Vincent.”
“No.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“I’m definitely calling you Mr. Moretti.”
Daniel coughed.
Vincent ignored him.
“Fine. Daniel stays across the street.”
Lena sighed.
“Why?”
Vincent looked toward the police cruiser carrying Jesse away.
“Because this isn’t over.”
He was right.
At 2:13 the next morning, someone threw a brick through Lena’s apartment window.
Attached to it was a note.
YOU SHOULD HAVE SIGNED.
May you like
Across the street, Daniel was already reaching for his phone.
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