Chapter 5 - The White Van
Ten minutes felt like ten years.
Jimmy, the driver, sat with his hands on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the side mirror. He didn't turn on the radio. He didn't check his phone. He just breathed slowly through his nose, his knuckles white against the dark leather steering wheel.
"Is he going to win?" I whispered from the backseat.
Jimmy didn't turn around. "Vance doesn't lose, kid."
"Cruz Valenti has lots of men," I said, clutching my five-dollar bill in my fist until the paper felt wet with my sweat. "Mrs. Chen said the Valentis own half the East Side."
"They own buildings," Jimmy said flatly. "Vance owns the men inside them. There's a difference."
The rear door of the meatpacking plant burst open.
A tall figure in a wet black coat stepped out into the yellow glare of the alley light. It was Big Leo. He carried something heavy over his shoulder like a sack of flour, moving quickly toward the middle sedan.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I couldn't breathe.
"Is that her?!" I screamed, reaching for the door handle. "Is that my mom?!"
"Stay in the car!" Jimmy barked, reaching back to grab my jacket collar. "Wait for the signal!"
Big Leo set the bundle down on the rear seat of the second car. He turned toward our SUV and flashed his penlight twice against the brick wall.
"Go," Jimmy muttered, unlocking the doors.
I didn't wait. I shoved the door open and sprinted through the rain, my taped shoe slapping wildly against the wet gravel.
"Mom!" I yelled, my voice breaking in the cold night air. "Mom!"
I reached the open door of the sedan.
My mother was lying across the leather seat, wrapped in Big Leo’s heavy trench coat. Her dark hair was wet and tangled, plastered against her face. Her lips were blue, and her wrist had dark purple bruises where zip-ties had bitten into her skin.
She opened her eyes slowly, squinting through the rain at me.
"Leo?" she rasped, her voice barely a whisper. "Little Leo?"
"I'm here, Mom!" I dropped to my knees on the dirty gravel, grabbing her cold fingers with both of my hands. "I'm here! I got you!"
She pulled me toward her, burying her face into my neck. She smelled like old copper and freezer frost, but she was warm, and she was breathing, and she was holding me so tight I thought my ribs would crack.
"How..." she sobbed, her body shaking wildly against mine. "How did they find me? Who are these men?"
I pulled back, looking at her wet face, and pressed the wrinkled five-dollar bill into her cold palm.
"I hired them," I said proudly, tears hot on my cheeks. "I paid the big man."
A shadow fell over the open car door.
Dominic Vance stood above us, holding his suit jacket over his shoulder. His knuckles were bruised, and there was a dark red smudge along the edge of his crisp white collar, but his dark eyes were calm as he looked down at us.
"Is she whole?" Dominic asked Big Leo.
"Dehydrated, cold, bruised up," Big Leo reported, standing guard behind the car. "Cruz kept her in the walk-in freezer for three days without a coat. Another night in there and her toes would have rotted off."
Dominic looked down at my mother. She looked back up at him, her eyes wide with terror as she recognized his face from the neighborhood rumors.
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"Mr. Vance..." she whispered, trying to push herself upright. "I don't... we don't have any money. My husband's debt—"
"Your husband's debt died with him, Mrs. Miller," Dominic said smoothly, his voice drowning out the rain. "And Cruz Valenti won't be collecting from anyone ever again."
