Chapter 5 - THE PAWN SHOP TICKET
“It’s the pawn shop where Vanessa sold my father’s tools.”
The reality hit me like freezing water.
Matteo wasn’t just running away.
He had seen the pawn shop receipts when Marco dumped Vanessa’s purse in the hallway. He had memorized the address.
He was going to buy his grandfather’s tools back.
“He took his piggy bank,” I said, noticing the empty space on his bookshelf. “He thinks he can just walk in and buy them.”
“That neighborhood isn’t safe at noon, let alone at midnight,” Luca said, already moving.
He grabbed his long black cashmere coat from the hall closet.
“Stay here, Claire. Marco will guard you.”
“No,” I said firmly.
Luca stopped.
“I’m coming with you,” I told him. “Matteo trusts me. If he’s scared, he might run from your men. He won’t run from me.”
Luca looked at my bandaged hand, then at the fierce determination in my eyes.
He didn’t argue.
“Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later, Luca’s black SUV tore through the wet streets of Chicago.
The West Loop was quiet, the neon signs reflecting off the puddles.
We pulled up to 1424 Halsted Street.
BARNEY’S LOANS & PAWN.
The iron security grates were pulled down over the windows. The OPEN sign was off.
It was closed.
“He’s not here,” Luca said, panic finally bleeding into his voice as he scanned the empty, trash-littered sidewalk.
“Look,” I pointed.
In the narrow, unlit alley next to the shop, a small shadow was huddled against the brick wall.
Luca threw the car into park before it even stopped moving.
We ran into the alley.
“Matteo!” Luca called out.
The shadow flinched.
It was Matteo.
He was shivering in his thin black suit jacket, his knees pulled to his chest. In his arms, he tightly clutched the wooden box he had made.
Next to him was a smashed porcelain piggy bank. Coins were scattered in the dirty alley water.
“Dad?” Matteo whimpered.
Luca fell to his knees in the grime.
He didn’t yell. He didn’t scold.
He wrapped his massive arms around his son and buried his face in the boy’s neck.
“I’ve got you,” Luca whispered, his broad shoulders shaking. “I’ve got you, buddy. I’m right here.”
Matteo started sobbing.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I came to get Grandpa’s tools. But the door is locked. And my money isn’t enough. I counted it. It’s only forty-two dollars.”
“Hey. Look at me.” Luca pulled back, wiping the tears from Matteo’s freezing cheeks. “I don’t care about the tools. I only care about you.”
“But Vanessa said—”
“Vanessa is never stepping foot in our house again. Do you understand me? She is gone.”
Matteo sniffled, looking at me.
I smiled and knelt beside them, placing my uninjured hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go home, sweetie.”
Matteo nodded. He held out the wooden box. “I kept it safe.”
Luca smiled through his tears. “You sure did.”
We stood up to leave.
But as we turned toward the street, a pair of headlights blinded us.
A black Lincoln Town Car had blocked the alley exit.
Four men in heavy leather jackets stepped out.
They weren't Luca’s men.
May you like
The tallest one pulled a tire iron from his coat.
“Well, well,” the man grinned. “Vanessa said you’d figure out the pawn shop eventually, Moretti. She just didn’t think you’d deliver the boy to us yourself.”
