“Jack actually has four dogs, so his dog will be fine with yours.Whatabout your dog?”
“He loves other dogs, so he won’t be a problem, though he may bark when a bunch of people he isn’t used to walk through the door.”
Archer nodded in response, butIhad more questions.Many, actually.
“So what?You’rea cop here inAtlantanow, and they just passed along the message about this guy?”Iasked.
Archer looked up toVinceand then back at me.
“I’m not a cop anymore,” he replied. “Iwork in private security and investigations now.Vinceworks with me and more than half a dozen other people.”
I stared at him, taking all that information in.
“I spoke to my old captain at theLVPD, who told me they have someone on the inside who informed them of the hit.”Archer’swords caused my heart to race faster.Icouldn’t believe they had someone on the inside of a mafia group—more importantly, someone who would risk their cover just to save our lives.
“The captain suggested we go on vacation or something and give him two weeks to try to gather what he needs to arrest the guy for breaking his parole restrictions.”
Did he say two weeks?
“I can’t just abruptly go on vacation for two weeks,”Itried to tell him.
“I understand that, sinceIcan’t really do that either, nor doIwant to,” he explained, making me calm slightly at his minor reassurance. “Buta three-million-dollar bounty on our heads is something we need to take seriously.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up his hand to cut me off, as there was obviously more explanation coming. “So, for the next few weeks—or until the threat goes away—you andIare attached at the hip, every day.Yougo to work—Ifollow.Yougo grocery shopping—I’llpush the cart.Oh, and while you’ll have your own room, it will be at my house, so pack enough clothes to last you at least a week or two.”
My head jerked back in shock, because surely,Ihad not heard him correctly. “I’msorry…Whatwas that last part?”
“You’re moving in with me,Ace,” he said, leaving no room for argument. “Wenever lived together when we were married, so now we can live it up.It’llbe fun.”
Vince snickered from the front seat, likely thinking the same thingIwas.
Fun?
You have got to be kidding me.
2
ANNA
FIVE YEARS AGO
Four years of late nights, ramen noodles, and caffeine-fueled study sessions, all for this moment.Graduation.
Freedom.
No more exams.Nomore late-night studying.Nomore worrying about maintaining myGPAto keep my scholarships.
I was done.Finallydone.
The very first one in my family to ever go to college—at least thatIknew of.Iwas so proud of myself for doing this.Therewas a point in my youth whenIwas being moved around so much from foster home to foster home that my teachers had sent home notes sayingIwas likely going to be held back due to poor grades.
Now look at me.Graduatingmagna cum laude from theUniversityofNevada-LasVegasSchoolofJournalism.
I was normally a very rigorous student—no drinking on weeknights, a minimum of thirty minutes of studying every night, and no crazy parties.Ihad heard a few stories about some of the rowdy parties getting broken up by the cops and kids who had spent the night in jail, risking their entire collegiate future just for a party.Iwasn’t going to chance my future like that, or my scholarships—no way.
But now it was all done.Finalexams had been turned in, andIwas free.Ihad freedom from stressing about school for the first time to do whateverIwanted for a week until the graduation commencement ceremony.Well, freedom from school responsibilities, but not life ones.Ihad sent out what felt like an infinite number of resumes and video reels to prospectiveTVstations and newspapers about job inquiries.I’dhad a few interviews, but no solid job offers yet.Ihad two weeks to keep searching and sending things out so that hopefully when the commencement ceremony was over,Icould hit the road and pack up for my new job somewhere.
But tonight…Tonight,Ihad promised my two roommatesIwould go out for some celebratory drinks and gambling.
