tell her. “Then I can come get you when you get off, and we can go to dinner or something.”
She smiles into the mirror as she applies her makeup.
“I’d like that, but if we’re going to go to dinner, I’ll have to come back here so I can change first. Can’t do dinner in these scrubs,” she says as she points at the rubber ducky print on her pants.
“So, you’re saying you don’t wanna go out to eat wearing those sexy pajamas?”
“Well, they are sexy,” she replies behind a soft giggle. “But I’d rather not.”
We laugh together, and it feels like it’s junior high all over again. It’s like we haven’t skipped a day, let alone ten years. Something that was dormant inside me feels alive now, and I’ve missed the feeling of . . . us. I enjoying being around her again, so I’m a little bothered when my phone chimes from a text message.
Charlie: We found him . . .
Alannah comes out of the bathroom just as I stuff the phone back into my pocket without replying.
“Ready?” I ask, as she grabs her purse.
“Ready.”
While we drive to Mercy Hospital, I put my hand on her leg, and she wraps her fingers around it. I’m watching the road, but I feel it every time she gently rubs my skin, and I rub hers back. I want to soak up every second of this car ride, because twenty-four hours ago, I didn’t think we’d ever be together like this again.
“So, what’s work gonna be like today?” I inquire. Not because I’m trying to make small-talk, but because I really want to know.
“Well, I’ve done all my paperwork stuff—new girl stuff, as I call it. So, I might be seeing patients today and working the nurse’s station. I’m actually kind of nervous about it.”
“Why? You did this in Alaska, right?”
“Yeah,” she answers, looking out the window at the big city buildings. “But this is my first time seeing patients here, and working with these nurses is a whole new challenge in itself. Not to mention the new doctors—learning how they like things done, and which ones of them are assholes. It’s a whole new adventure.”
“You’re gonna do great,” I reassure her. “All you have to do is be yourself, and you can’t go wrong.”
I feel her eyes on me.
“Thank you,” she says.
I take my eyes off the road for a second just to look over and see her smile. It shakes me to my core, and I love it.
When we get to Mercy, I’m pissed that we got here so fast. I drive under the overhang, put the car in park, and I clinch her hand so she can’t get out.
“I don’t want you to go,” I kid.
“I know, but I have to,” she says, beaming. “I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”
I sigh as I let her leave.
“Okay.”
She leans over and kisses me softly on the lips, then she gets out and walks into the hospital without looking back.
When the sliding glass doors close behind her, my phone chimes again. I pull it from my pocket and read the message from Charlie.
Charlie: We followed him to a house. 1212 Douglas Ave . . .
This time, I send a reply message.
Me: Go inside and say hello. I’m on my way.
It’s a decent-looking house from the outside. Medium-sized with red bricks and a short little driveway with lots of cracks in it. It’s not the driveway or the house I hone in on—it’s the black Lincoln Denali parked out front. The second I pull up to the curb I know it’s the same vehicle from Isle of Capri. This is the house of the motherfucker who tried to shoot me in my own casino. This is the guy who sent bullets buzzing over my head, only inches away from Alannah.
I park across the street from where Tommy’s Maroon Durango is sitting, and I quickly make my way inside. I don’t waste time looking around like you see in the movies, because all that does is guarantee that you look suspicious to everyone who might be watching, plus give them multiple angles to see your face. I keep my head down and speed-walk up the sidewalk. Skinny Joe opens the door for me so I don’t have to knock, and the second I enter the old house, I see my crew standing around a black guy who’s tied to a chair with thick rope in the middle of the living room.