Chapter 2 - The South Side Sanctuary
The rain had turned into a torrent by the time the black SUV pulled into the alley behind The Blue Anchor. The diner's neon sign flickered weakly through the mist, casting a eerie red glow over the wet asphalt.
Dominic turned to his head enforcer, a hulking man named Mateo sitting in the front passenger seat. "Stay in the car. Keep the engine running. If anyone approaches, shoot first."
"Dominic, no," I objected, grabbing his sleeve. "If Mateo walks into that diner behind you, the owner will panic. Gemma won't leave a clue if she thinks a mob hit squad is sweeping the place."
Dominic looked down at my hand on his arm, then back up at my face. "You think you're walking in there alone?"
"I am," I said firmly. "I've frequented this place for seven years. Old Sal knows me. He knows Gemma. If she left a message, she left it with him, and he won't speak to a man wearing a five-thousand-dollar suit."
Dominic reached out, taking my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look directly into his dark, unblinking eyes. "Ten minutes, Clara. If you aren't back in this vehicle in ten minutes, I tear that building down to its foundation."
My heart did a strange, breathless flip. I nodded, stepping out into the freezing rain and pulling my coat tightly around my shoulders.
The bell above the diner door jingled softly as I slipped inside. The air was thick with the smell of burnt coffee and old grease. Old Sal was behind the counter, wiping down a stainless-steel coffee pot with a stained rag. When he raised his head and saw me, his eyes widened in instant recognition—and deep, unmistakable fear.
"Clara," Sal rasped, glancing nervously toward the back exit. "You shouldn't be here, kid."
I walked quickly to the counter, leaning over the Formica top. "Sal, where is she? Where is Gemma?"
Sal swallowed hard, dropping his rag. "She came in yesterday morning. Looked like she hadn't slept in days. She was trembling, Clara. She gave me fifty bucks and told me to hand an envelope to the girl with the brown hair and the pharmacy coat."
He reached beneath the register, pulled out a yellowed, grease-stained envelope, and slid it across the counter toward me.
Before my fingers could touch the paper, the diner’s front glass window shattered inward in an explosion of flying shards and roaring gunfire.
I screamed, dropping to the floor as bullets tore through the vinyl booths above my head. Sal yelled, ducking behind the counter. The deafening roar of automatic weapons filled the small space, destroying glass, wood, and metal in a matter of seconds.
Suddenly, a heavy weight threw itself over my body, pinning me safely against the floorboards beneath the counter.
Dominic.
He had kicked the diner door off its hinges the second the first shot fired. He pulled a heavy matte-black pistol from his jacket, firing three precise shots back through the broken window. Screams echoed from the rain-slicked street outside, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the pavement.
Dominic shielded my head with one broad hand, his body hovering over mine like an impenetrable wall of muscle and iron. His dark eyes searched my face in the chaos.
"Are you hit?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low, his chest heaving against mine.
"I... I'm fine," I choked out, clutching the yellow envelope tightly to my chest. "Dominic, they tried to kill us!"
"They tried to take you," Dominic corrected coldly, his eyes turning to liquid ice as he looked toward the street. "They don't want Gemma. They want the leverage to break me."
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He stood up smoothly, keeping one hand locked around my waist, lifting me off the ground effortlessly as Mateo stormed through the broken front entrance with his weapon drawn.
"Clear the street!" Dominic ordered Mateo, his arm tightening around my frame, pressing me flush against his hard chest as he carried me back out into the rain. "We're going to the safehouse. Now."
