but then good sense prevailed. He did give a shit.
They could keep him in this hole if they found out what he was up to. He did need to be careful if his plan were to succeed. In here, he didn't run anything. The guards were already being paid off by others, and seemed reluctant to take his money. The other prisoners had their own hierarchy and so far he had been unable to crack it. He was nothing in here. No one. That was absolutely unacceptable. He wasn't spending his golden years in this trap, this hellhole.
He softened. "You're right Abbatelli - but it's begun - and next week, next Tuesday, we take them all out. We clean house and get out of the country. They'll be less excited to chase us if they don't have anyone to testify against us."
Abbatelli peered closely at him. "Even your ah, Col-, ah, even your son?"
Savoy spit on the ground and began to transfer sheets from one machine to another. "I have no son," he finally said, turning his face to his work.
Chapter 13
Coleton stood in the kitchen, surveying the turned-over table and the plates that clattered to the floor. He wasn't cleaning this up, no way. She had a temper, Aria did, and he wasn't surprised at all. Virtually all the women he had ever been attracted to did. If you wanted someone without a temper, you didn't go for the strong women. You went for the soft and sweet ones, the ones who said things like whatever you want or I don't know, what do you want to do ?
Plus she was a cop, and he'd never met a cop that didn't have a temper either.
Coleton walked out into the living room and eyeballed the door. For the first time in a while, he wanted to bolt – to leave. He didn't want to be here anymore. She'd been impressing him yesterday, making him feel like she knew what she was doing, making him think that maybe he had a chance if he was with her, but now he'd lost that feeling. If only she hadn't flipped the table ...
Coleton walked to the door and placed his hand on it, unaware that Aria had gone through the same mental process only a few minutes before. He tried to turn the knob, but it wouldn't budge. He unlocked it, and turned it, then stepped out onto the concrete slab in front of the tiny apartment. The sound of the baby crying again caught his ear and he looked towards the noise. A woman stood in front of the next door, her back to Coleton, relentlessly bouncing the pained baby on her shoulder, trying to soothe it. It was small, and looked pinched in the face, like it couldn't ever get quite get enough milk.
Coleton looked out over the parking lot, away from the woman and the baby, and thought about leaving,. But where would he go? He was going to testify, no matter what, unless his father had killed him by then, so it just didn't make sense to take off. Coleton took a deep breath and stilled his own anger. If only she had let him explain. If only she hadn't flipped the table and taken off. He just couldn't understand a person who did something like that. But he could stay, and avoid her. There were three rooms in the place. If she were in the kitchen, he would be in the living room. If she were in the living room, he would head to the kitchen. It was only for another five days.
Coleton heaved a sigh and stepped back through the doorway, closing the door in front of him. He crossed the room and dropped onto the couch, deciding to watch TV. With any luck, his brains would liquefy and leak out his ears.
***
Aria paced the tiny bedroom, her fingers itching at her sides. It had to be close to ten o'clock at night. Dark had fallen an hour ago and she had only left the room once since her shameful retreat, sneaking out just to use the bathroom.
About two hours before the sun had set, a delicious aroma had drifted down the hallway and under the door. It was spaghetti and she didn't know how she had managed to resist it. But she had. She would not eat one more bite of Coleton's food. Part of her mind screamed at her that she