DIABLO

I take one last look at her, committing the image to memory. If she's still here when I come back tomorrow, we'll both be in deep trouble. Big trouble.

I drink her in, trying to fix every detail in my head, the tilt of her neck, the little way she cocks her head when she listens, that shy smile that hints at something more.

Desire hides behind it, barely contained. I could stand here for hours watching her, but I won't.

Maybe fate put her in my path to test me. She loves Rome, she's learning Italian, she likes bowling, her voice is like soft liquid silk that slips into my ears, her pink lips look made for kissing, her body is shaped so my hands would want to trace her curves.

Stop it. Just because she shares my tastes doesn't mean she wants to throw away her life and start anew in a foreign country for my sake.

She has a life here, people who care about her. I can't ask her to drop all of that for me. Besides, getting two sets of escape papers would be much harder than getting one.

I leave the bar and find Brian crouched low behind the wheel of the hire car. I can't park my own anywhere near here, it would be noticed straight away. I move around and climb into the passenger seat.

He pulls away. "How'd it go?" he asks.

"Boss is a real piece of work, Joe Harris," I say, keeping my voice even, "out of his depth, all nerves. Weak though, easy to crack. Snap a couple of fingers and he'll sing like a canary."

"Why do you think they picked this place?" Brian asks.

"Because it's a dive no one cares about," I answer.

"You're telling me, I'll need flea powder when we get back, the alley was full of rats."

"Any way into the courtyard from outside?" I ask.

"Knew you'd ask, I cut a gap in the razor wire, just big enough."

"Good."

"You sure you want to do this, boss? The Rossi Cartel don't mess around, when it comes to this sort of thing. They took the eyes out of the last guy who tried to steal from them."

"Above your pay grade, Brian."

"At least tell me why we're getting mixed up with the Rossi Cartel, they don't bother our family, we stay away. Why rock the boat over one drop? How much could it be worth?"

I think for a moment. I could keep him in the dark, but if this goes south, I'll need him sharp. The only way to make sure of that is to tell him part of the plan, not everything. Abel already made it clear, if anyone learns what's in the drop, the deal is off.

"The case holds something someone needs," I say, keeping my tone casual, "and since when were you scared of anything?"

"I just like keeping my hands attached to my arms," he replies.

"Do your job and nothing will go wrong."

"I hope it's worth it, Diablo, that's all I'm saying."

There's a lot I can't tell him, like how the case contains a tiny vial of nerve toxin, concentrated enough that one drop will kill in seconds. A single sniff and your face melts away. It's been strengthened to a concentration that could wipe out an entire conference hall full of people, if left unchecked. Which it will do, if I don't get hold of it.

Or how the Rossi Cartel are using Goody's Bar to hide the vial until the summit. Or that the man who intends to use it is the same one who killed my parents. That makes this personal, not business. Or that Abel has offered me a deal I can't refuse, a way out. I go where he cannot. I take the vial and get it to him before his lab notices it's missing.

Do that and he clears my record, he makes me vanish. I'll be able to live in the light instead of always moving in shadows, free to go home at last, after all these years. No one watching me, no one out to kill me. I'll be a new man in Rome, a nobody with no past, no family, no criminal file.

"Not going to be easy," Brian says, pulling me out of my thoughts, "the Rossi Cartel can be nasty when you cross them."

"Which is why we're doing this quiet, just you and me, no one else hears a word about the drop, got it?"

"Got it. You got a plan yet?"

"Tell me what you scoped out," I say.

He runs through the layout, the streets outside the bar, the razor wire around the courtyard and the gap he cut, the positions of cameras on nearby buildings. I half listen, half replaying moments from inside the bar, images of April burning behind my eyes. I hope she takes tomorrow night off. If things go wrong it could turn into a bloodbath, like he said. She could get killed in the crossfire.

Better she stays home and stays safe, that way I can get this done, grab the vial, hand it to Abel, and walk away. That's the plan. Get in, get out, be gone. Simple, if everything goes right.

I picture a new life, anonymous and clean. In Rome, a man who does not exist will appear, a nobody who can breathe in the daylight without looking over his shoulder. I let the thought linger for a heartbeat, the promise of it warming me.

"You getting distracted?" Brian waves his hand in front of my face.

"Since when have I ever been nervous?" I reply, forcing a laugh.

He snorts. "Just messing with you, boss. You're not yourself tonight. Something happen in there?"

I think of April's hand when I pressed mine into it to give her the hundred, the way she drew a sharp breath, her pupils widening. In that moment, I'm sure she'd have been wet between her legs, I tell myself. She needed the money, I heard them talking about late paychecks. If it wasn't for the job, I'd have taken Joe into his office, cracked his skull, maybe emptied his safe and handed her the lot. I know Joe wouldn't go to the police, who rats on a mob boss and lives to tell about it?

I can't risk acting on that now. Cracking his nose would be satisfying, but it would ruin the whole cover story that's so important. I need him unsettled because nerves make men make mistakes, mistakes I can use.

The drop is tomorrow night, the plan set. I make sure Joe sees me watching, make sure he knows my face. Once the Rossi Cartel leave, I'll get him to hand over the suitcase, then I go. It's that simple.

As long as April isn't there, nothing should go wrong. If she is, I'll lose focus and she's likely to get hurt.

All I can do is hope she does as I asked and takes the night off. The rest I leave to fate.

APRIL

It's the end of the night, and I'm tired all the way down to my bones. Joe hasn't come out of his office once, so it's been up to Jammie and me to clean everything and get the place ready for tomorrow.

I knock on his office door, but all he does is turn up the volume on his TV. I can hear it clearly - reruns of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, his favorite show and the reason he named this bar Goody's. He's doing it on purpose. He doesn't want us asking about our paychecks again.

I knock once more, but still nothing. So I go back to wiping down the counter, trying not to think about the guy who came in tonight. But it's hard. Something about him keeps looping in my mind.

Not just the way I wanted to throw myself into his arms when he walked up, or that calm confidence he had, the kind that makes everyone else in the room feel smaller. Not even the way he got me to talk about my dream of moving to Rome - a dream I've never told anyone before.

It was the way he looked at me when he told me to take tomorrow off, like he was genuinely worried about me. That look still sits heavy in my chest.

I can't shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen here tomorrow.

We've had strange things happen before at Goody's, but I try not to dwell on them. Usually, it's just Joe having private meetings in his office. People slip in, pass him envelopes, or walk out holding one. I've never asked what's inside.

I'm not stupid enough to risk losing this job. It's the only steady one I've had since moving to Chicago, and high school dropouts like me don't exactly have options waiting for them.

Still, I keep telling myself it'll change once I learn proper Italian. That's the goal - get a qualification, build some confidence, move forward.

Jammie's in the bathroom refilling toilet rolls while I'm behind the bar scrubbing at the sticky surface that will never look clean no matter how much I try. What this place really needs is a full renovation.

But Joe never spends money unless he has to. The fire extinguishers expired five years ago, the snacks could probably kill someone, and I'm pretty sure the smoke alarms are fake, just like the health certificates on the wall.

I pause, thinking about what that man - Diablo - said to me. Should I actually take tomorrow off? I need the money, but the way he said it, so calm and certain... it's like he knew something I didn't.

When Jammie comes back from the bathroom, it'll be time to go. I make up my mind. Time to be brave for once.

I walk up to Joe's door again and start knocking - louder this time. He finally yells for me to go home.

"Any chance I can take tomorrow off?" I call through the door, heart racing. I don't think I've ever been this bold.

The door swings open. Joe glares at me. "On a Friday night? You've got to be kidding. What for?"

"I just need a night off. I'm exhausted."

"We're all tired, honey. Most of us don't complain about it to the boss."

"Come on, Joe," Jammie says from behind me. "If she wants a night off, what harm could it do?"

"You want to work the whole shift alone?" he snaps.

"Well, no, but-"

"The schedule's set. You both better be here tomorrow," he growls, pointing at us. "Or don't bother coming back at all." Then he slams the door shut and yells through it, "Now get the hell out of here. I'm busy."

Jammie looks at me and shrugs. "Is it just me, or is he even more lovable than usual?" She grabs her big black coat from the hook. "Come on, let's leave the jerk to do whatever weird stuff he does in there while watching that show."

We lock up and head outside together. Her cab's already waiting. "See you tomorrow," she calls as she climbs in.

I wave and walk next door to my apartment. When I open the door, Aria waves at me from the kitchen. "Want a drink?"

"I thought you had a date tonight," I say, hanging up my jacket.

"That was a disaster. He brought his mom."

I blink. "You're kidding."

"She wanted to 'vet' me first - her words. I told her she could keep her precious bundle and left. Then I met up with Ted from accounting again. Still awful. So me and Mr. Walmart made other plans. I got coffee, a bottle of Jim Beam, and new batteries for Lamuel. That'll keep me satisfied till Jake tomorrow night."

I can't help laughing. "You have more sex in a week than I've had in a lifetime."

"That's because my standards are lower than yours. You're out here waiting for Mr. Perfect. I just need a man with a pulse."

"Does the man need to be attached to it?"

"Ideally, but not essential. Me and Lamuel are doing just fine."

I roll my eyes. "It's still weird that you named your vibrator Lamuel."

"Only because you won't name yours. What are you, the Queen of England? Until we find decent guys, it's just us and the plastic fantastic. I'll keep going until I get results - like your dad."

"Gross."

She laughs. "You keep waiting for love and getting nothing while your love life turns to dust - like your mom."

"Nice."

"Anyway," she says, grinning, "enough about my romantic disasters. How was work?"

"Same as always." I drop into a chair, still thinking about the stranger from tonight. "Actually... no. Not the same."

"Ooh," Aria teases. "Do tell."

"I met someone."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "And what was he like?"

"Tall, handsome, dangerous looking. The kind of guy who never smiles. He asked my name... then told me to take tomorrow off work."

Aria places a mug of coffee in front of me, smirking. "Did you blow him?"

"Only a couple of times," I say dryly.

She bursts out laughing. "That's the real you," she says, pointing at me. "Why doesn't that version ever show up at work? You should walk in there like you own the place."

I shrug. "I'm different around you. We grew up together."

"So you can be yourself with me but not with anyone else, huh?"

"Exactly."

"You're never going to get laid like that, April. You should've dragged him into the bathroom and taken care of business right there."

"Correction - that's your way of handling things."

"Hey, it works." She takes a sip of coffee, hiding a grin. "So, what really happened tonight?"

"Nothing."

"Liar. I know you, something definitely happened."

I sigh. "Okay, fine. But you'll say I'm overthinking again."

"Never know till you tell me."

"Right. So... there was this guy."

"It's a bar, April. There are guys every night. What made this one special?"

"Italian, for starters."

Aria drags her chair closer, inch by inch, grinning like a cat. "Go on. That's already a good sign. What else?"

"Tall. Expensive suit. Short dark hair. Broad shoulders."

"On the suit? Bit weird."

"On him," I say, smiling in spite of myself.

APRIL

"Let me guess. Eyes you could drown in? Body like something out of a dream?" Aria's voice is playful as she grins over the rim of her mug.

"I didn't say that," I mutter, trying to sound casual even though I can feel my cheeks heating up.

"You didn't have to," she says, smirking. "I think my sweet April Morgan has finally fallen in love."

"I didn't say that either."

"So, did you at least talk to him? Give him your number?"

"Nope."

"Did you talk to him at all?"

"Sure, I did."

She raises an eyebrow. "Apart from when he ordered his drink?"

"Then no," I admit.

Aria sighs dramatically and slouches back in her chair. "This is not exactly the thrilling story I was hoping for."

"There's nothing exciting to tell," I say, trying to sound bored, though the thought of his dark eyes still lingers in my mind.

"What did you talk about then? You must have talked about something."

"He asked me my name," I begin quietly, "and asked about my Italy pin. I told him I've always wanted to live in Rome."

Aria sits upright, eyes wide. "Holy crap, really?"

"Yes. So?"

"So you told me never to share your dreams with anyone, remember? You said it's safer to keep them secret so no one laughs at you. What makes this guy so special that you'd tell him?"

I look down at my hands. "That's not even the weird part."

"What is?"

"He told me I should take tomorrow night off work."

Her brows lift. "That's... odd. Why did he say that?"

"I have no idea," I say truthfully.

"So are you going to take the night off?"

"Joe wouldn't let me."

"I think I know what's going on," she says, snapping her fingers. "He's married and bringing his wife tomorrow night. Doesn't want the girl behind the bar to ruin his fun."

"Since when do you describe me as the girl behind the bar?" I laugh.

"Fine, fine," she grins. "Let's go with muffin. Or bagel. Something you can spread butter on."

"How about none of the above?"

She yawns. "Whatever. I'm going to bed. You should too. You've got your test tomorrow, right?"

I stretch, stifling a yawn of my own. "Haven't even had time to study for it."

"It's community college Italian 101, April. Just show up and say ciao and you'll pass."

"Thanks for believing in my dedication."

She grins, softer now. "I mean you'll do fine. You actually want to be there this time, and that's half the battle. Just don't spend the day daydreaming about Mr. Mystery Man and you'll ace it."

"I'm pretty sure that's not his name," I mumble.

"Until you find out, that's what I'm calling him," she says with a wink. "It's been, what, three years since you moved here with me?"

"Your point being?"

"You haven't hooked up with anyone since Kenny Brown."

"Don't remind me," I groan. "He was... terrible."

"You've not got much to compare him with, babe."

"I don't need much to know thirty seconds isn't enough to enjoy anything."

Aria laughs. "That's not even enough time to preheat my oven. Maybe you should get yourself a little taste of Mr. Mystery and make a proper comparison. Let him take charge, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I get it," I say dryly.

"Come on, I'm just saying it wouldn't hurt you to start dating again. Download Tinder, have some fun. The world's full of men waiting to meet you."

"I tried Tinder, remember? Then I deleted it."

"Yeah, but maybe try it again without talking about Italy to every guy who swipes right on you."

"I don't always talk about Italy," I protest.

"Ancient Rome is still Italy," she reminds me.

"Oh."

"It's not exactly flirty conversation, April. Don't you ever wonder why they stop replying?"

"Not all of them did."

"Really?"

"Some sent pictures first."

Aria snorts. "Classy. You go, girl." She stands, stretching, and grabs her coffee cup. "Anyway, you need to stop living in your head and start living in the world. There's a whole buffet of men out there just waiting for you. Imagine them all lining up at once."

I shake my head, laughing. "I'd rather not. That's your kind of chaos, not mine."

She grins, blows me a kiss, and disappears into her room. A few seconds later, her phone pings and she shouts through the wall, "It's the guy's mom! She's asking me on a second date! What do I say?"

I call back, "Tell her I've grounded you!"

Once her laughter fades, I crawl into bed, staring up at the ceiling. She's right-it's been a long time. I start counting back. Kenny Brown. Fumbling in the front seat of his car. He cried when he finished, then apologized. I didn't cry. I didn't even finish. It was over before it started, and then he spent weeks telling everyone at school that I was frigid. Said I was too "dry" to turn him on. Started calling me a tease in the hallways.

I'm not saying that's the only reason I dropped out and left Colorado, but it didn't help. Aria was already moving to Chicago, and she needed a roommate. I needed an escape. My mom was struggling to keep her store open since the megamart opened nearby. Moving out was the best way to stop being another mouth she had to feed.

Things have been okay here. Not perfect, but okay. Still, sometimes I wish I could meet someone real. Someone special. Not like Jammie, who only dates to cheat. Not like Aria, who dates half the city.

I just want one person. Someone who looks at me and sees me. But not yet. Not when I'm still barely scraping by on a part-time bar job and a shared apartment I can barely afford.

Still, I can't stop thinking about him. The stranger with dark eyes. Diablo Romano. The one who threw out that jerk who spilled beer on me.

Before I fall asleep, I reach for my small vibrator. It helps me relax when my mind won't stop spinning. I let myself drift away, imagining his voice, his hands, his eyes. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do anyway.

And for a few quiet moments before sleep takes me, he's right there again-dark, dangerous, and impossible to forget.