I pull onto the road. I’ve got other things to get in order today.
Namely her.
“Hi,” she says. “Driving?”
I nod and focus on the road in front. “No jeans.”
“You don’t like jeans.” She gives a little smile and turns to face the road. Cute.
It takes us well over an hour to get through traffic and over to Long Island, and for some reason, she slips into sleep on the way. Maybe all the running. Who knows? It’s reasonably nice, though. Quiet. I stare along the road,squinting at the sun climbing in the sky, and steer roads I've barely traveled on my own before now. I haven’t been out here for years. Mother used to bring me on the weekends sometimes. I thought back then it was for a holiday. I found out better when I turned fifteen. We were sent here for safety when shit went south, five guards escorting us, with another three already waiting when we arrived. No one knew about it apart from Mother and Father, and whatever guards he sent.
They’re all dead now, and I closed it all down when Father died. Old man Johnson, a resident down the road, plays caretaker, ensuring it’s kept clean and tidy with a selection of food items in stock just in case. No trouble with the neighbors in this area.
It never was my thing—beaches and dreams. Or maybe it was before reality took hold. Fuck knows.
“The Hamptons?” she asks, coming out of sleep as we drive into the area. “What are we doing here?”
“Got something to show you,” I reply, looking out of the window and pulling through the streets to get us there. Why I’m doing this I haven’t worked out yet, but she needs a place to go that no one can find. She’s precious to me like that. Important.
I hand her a bank card, a name written on it that isn’t hers, and then open the sectional between us, nodding at a small folder I prepared a while ago should it ever be needed.
“Memorise all that and burn it,” I suggest. She picks it up and flips through the pages, a frown on her face.
“I don’t understand,” she says, looking at me. I pull the car over into the next driveway, the key fob opening the gates in front of us.
“Yeah, well, shit’s about to get real and you need a place to run if it goes wrong.” Her eyes widen a little. “At present, Hope. You have nothing but my name behind you and the luxury that affords you. If I’m not here, you’re nothing but a gutter rat again.” That causes a scowl, one that flashes so fucking quickly no one would ever notice it. I do, though.
“But the accounts—”
“Are mine. I control them. That one is now yours.” I nod at the card. “Or Annalise Johnson’s. It’ll give you time to get prepped and get your ass out of the country. There’s an old place in Italy you can go to after this if you need to do that. All the info is there.”
I pull up as she’s digesting that information, her fingers running over the numbers and facts I’ve given her, and stare at the place, counting the white slats of wood all the way up to the top and smiling. I climbed those as a child. I remember Mother calling me down, telling me I was gonna kill myself. I snort, amused at the life she and Father were pushing me into anyway.
“It’s lovely,” she says.
Not as lovely as she is.
I turn to look at her as she gazes at the house, wondering what she makes of it. It is lovely, nothing like my apartment and so far from what she’s used to it must seem laughable. Still, it’s in her name now regardless, a way for her to gain a couple of million if she needs it and I’m dead. That and the bank account and she’s set for life.
“It was Mother’s,” I mumble, opening the car door. “Yours now.”
I chuckle at the gasp that comes out of her and walk round to help her out, hand reaching in to get her. She clasps onto me, legs peeling out as she finally stands on ground that not one other fuck knows about. “You’ll be safe here if you need to be.”
“Benjamin, I—” I hand her a spare set of car keys, a house key with a fob attached, as my other finger comes to her lips to stop her talking. She smiles and nods, a quiet blink of her eyes flickering between us.
“Don’t think. You don’t need to say anything. This is me giving you something to keep you safe if anything goes wrong, Hope. That’s all.”
“That’s not all it is,” she says, standing there looking so goddamn pretty. “It was your mother’s. You didn’t need to do this for me. I’ll be okay. You know I can look after myself.” She certainly did before I came along.
“You shouldn’t have to. That’s my job. If this shit I’m getting into fucks up, you shouldn’t have to suffer because of it. I’m getting in bed with Cane to bring war to Yakuza, Hope. That’s got real goddamn trouble written all over it.” She reaches for my face, a show of affection I’m not used to from her. I back off before she touches me, serious about what’s coming. “It’s gotta happen, though. I’m not letting them have Tony’s life without bringing revenge to them. You understand?”
Ten seconds. I count them in my head as I let her gaze try to penetrate me, get under my skin. I don’t fight the connection for once and let everything I’ve just said sink in. She nods and looks at the floor, realising the gravity of the situation. This could mean the end of me, end of us even. Ten seconds of us both looking at each other like those goddamn lovers do in parks.
Stupid.
My head shakes as we walk up the path towards the porch, and my fingers play over my beads as memories flood me with every step. Time was good here, loving and kind. Mother used to say it was our retreat from the bright lights, a way of remembering who we were. She’d make me pancakes for breakfast, maple syrup poured all over them, until they couldn’t soak up anymore of the sticky sauce. I chuckle at the thought and open the main door, waving Hope in first. Her hands go to her mouth as she glances around the space, a small yelp of excitement coming from her as she crosses through the hall towards the kitchen area at the back.
“Look at that view,” she says, unbuckling her belt and laying her coat on the kitchen table. She’s opened the back doors before I get a chance to do it for her, heading straight out onto the deck to look at the ocean. “You’ve had this all along and you didn’t come out here? Why not, Benjamin? It's gorgeous.”
