the people he’d want saved in his own imaginary phone. A sum total of zero. He was twenty-seven years old and a total billy no mates.
Paolo didn’t reply. Luis shoved the phone under his pillow and closed his eyes. A nap seemed a world away now, and he had shopping to do, but Paolo’s silence bothered him. What if he’d had second thoughts? What if he’d inspected the pots and pans Luis had cleaned and found them not clean enough? Luis’s discharge grant was supposed to last until he got paid from employment or a dole cheque came through, whatever they were calling it these days. Either way, if Paolo had changed his mind, that money would have to last weeks.
Sleep cost nothing. Luis tried to quiet his mind and take himself back to the only normal he could remember. The snoring and fidgeting of three other men replaced the silence of the bedsit. The mattress beneath him hardened, and the worn duvet cover became a scratchy blanket. Cold faded to stuffy warmth. Racing thoughts slowed. Two days of stress and hard work caught the anxious beast and tamed it. Luis drifted in that sacred place between consciousness and sleep, enjoying the ride. He was so nearly there, then a tiny click from the hallway startled him back to the beginning.
Dazed, Luis sat up, half convinced the sound had come from his hazy imagination. If he hadn’t sensed Paolo behind him, how on earth would he hear whatever his brain was telling him had come from the hallway?
It doesn’t work like that, remember? They told you lots of different things affect what you can hear. Luis’s good ear was nearest the door to the hallway. That, along with the knowledge he wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t, convinced him to get up and check.
A folded page from a newspaper lay on the floor beneath the letterbox. Luis stared at it, apprehension blooming in his gut, glad he still hadn’t bought tokens for the electric metre. The front door was cheap and thin, with no window, but he crept towards the paper as if he had a thousand eyes on him. He picked it up and unrolled it. Another phone number greeted him, but the last one on earth he actually wanted.
Beneath it was a note.
Call me bro, D
A full-body shiver passed through Luis. He didn’t bother to wonder how Dante had found him, but he’d been counting on it taking him a little longer. At least until he had a job he could point to as reason for why he couldn’t re-join the family firm. Knowing Dante, it wouldn’t have put him off for long, but by then, perhaps Luis might’ve had enough money to be somewhere else.
Somewhere far enough from the city that Dante couldn’t be bothered to come looking for him. After all, it wasn’t like he’d taken the trouble to visit Luis in prison. No one had. He’d been as alone then as he was now.
He took the phone number to the kitchen and tossed it in the empty fridge. Fury swept through him that he didn’t have the balls to put it in the bin, but he’d never had balls when it came to Dante, and Dante knew it. He didn’t give a single fuck about Luis—he was a tool to him, a puppet. Not a brother, but a pawn in a sick game Luis could never win.
You’ll call him, though, won’t you?
Of course he would. If he didn’t, Dante would come banging on his door, inserting himself into the silent, safe space Luis had a chance to carve out in the shitty bedsit he called home.
He backed out of the kitchen and returned to the sanctuary his lumpy bed seemed when he compared it to standing in the draughty kitchen and glaring at the fridge. His heart beat louder, but not with the heat it did whenever he caught sight of Paolo. No. This was different. This was a fear he knew.
His borrowed phone vibrated somewhere on the bed. Another shot of terror curdled his insides. Seriously? He’s stalking me enough to have this number?
But that was impossible, even for Dante . . .
Unless Paolo was working for him, and he’d offered Luis a job to keep him where Dante could find him. Dante was well capable of manipulating the world enough to get what he wanted, but the theory relied on him knowing that Luis would walk into Toni’s—
Stop it. Luis sucked in a deep