Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, except for the stuff that's mine. The rest is the property of Sony Pictures, and the brainchild of Angela Robinson.

Chapter 2:

Why does it seem like I spend more time dealing with criminals now than I did before I went straight — legit? I mean, right when I think I've finally got myself out of the business, they drag me back in. Usually with some amount of kicking and screaming involved.

I honestly didn't know the name of the man who sat behind the elegant mahogany desk in front of us. Well, not his real name, anyway. Kinda weird, I guess, considering how I'd probably been single-handedly responsible for his rise to the number three position in the Giacona family, in spite of him having no blood or marriage relationship to the family. They were the power in these parts, not much of anything happened in the lower half of Italy without them knowing about it.

He called himself Celso, but I didn't believe that was his name for a second. For one thing, there was always just a fraction of a second of hesitation whenever I called him by that name; as if he weren't used to answering to it. For that matter, I wasn't even completely sure that he was Italian.

But as long as he wanted to go by Celso, I guess his real name didn't matter that much.

He often served as the Giacona family's public face, and as a consequence, everything about his image radiated perfection. He was young; mid-thirties at the oldest. The smooth, unblemished skin of his face curved down under his eyes, accentuating his strong, square jaw line. Even under his immaculately pressed and cleaned black suit, you could easily see the powerful arms underneath as he rested his hands, clasped, atop his desk. His hair was perfectly parted over his right eye, and his dark, penetrating eyes speared out from under a pair of thin eyebrows. Not glaring, per se, but they had the rather chilling habit of making me feel transparent. He's cute. For a guy. I tell you, if it weren't for the whole gayness-of-me thing…

"Lucy," Celso's tone was amicable, but guarded. He spoke without even the faintest trace of an Italian accent. I have to admit that the first time I dealt with the mob, I half expected the guy I spoke to to be a Brando knockoff. What can I say? The Godfather was like the first movie I ever watched with my father.

"Celso," I nodded respectfully as I took one of the two chairs in front of the desk. Amy sat in the other.

"Lucy, I was under the impression that we had an agreement," he said. It was an accusation, but you never would have been able to tell from his tone of voice. It was perfectly level.

"We did — we do," I told him, "but that agreement has become complicated."

"Complicated, how?" Celso he asked.

"The man I stole the diamond from: he's free," I told him.

"I see," he said simply. Lemme just digress for a second to say you should never, ever play poker with Celso. His perfectly-chiseled face is impossible to read. "And you believe he is coming here?"

"I believe that he will try to find me," I replied. "I believe he will search Spain for us, but since we clearly aren't there, he'll have no leads," I looked up to meet his eyes, "except for you. He knows of my connection with you, and he knows me well enough to know I might come to you to help me disappear."

Celso nodded slowly. "And you want to know if this is information I will be willing to provide to this man."

I nodded. "He will be willing to pay for it. Handsomely," I told him. "Almost certainly a sum which I will be unable to match." There wasn't any need to elaborate. Celso probably knew our financial situation better than I did. We weren't hurting, but clearly there was no way we could match a bribe that Ronnie would probably be willing to put up for us. Yep, now was time to turn in one of those markers I'd earned for bringing that diamond to him. He still owed me a couple of favors, it was time to see exactly how much they were worth.

"And you want to know if that information is for sale," Celso said.

"I want to know if I should sell the house and buy some plane tickets," I replied. I tried to keep my voice level, but it was hard. Here, we'd finally found ourselves a place where we could just disappear forever, and now there was the real chance that we were about to lose it.

"And if you were to leave, what would you do?" Celso asked.

I shrugged. "I guess I'd probably have to go back into business for myself," I told him. "I imagine with Amy along with me we could manage pretty well. We got you that diamond, didn't we?"

Beside me, I felt, rather than saw, Amy tense up. Pretty impressive, considering that she was sitting a good three feet away from me. She probably liked the idea of me going back to a life of crime even less than I liked the idea of dragging her into it with me.

Celso raised his hands to clasp them just under his nose; his elbows still resting on the table. His thumb traced over his thin lips as he gazed down at the desk in front of him, his expression one of intense thought.

Finally, he spoke: "The Family," you could almost hear him capitalize the word, "has no interest in competing against you in any future business ventures," he continued, "I am confident that a cost-benefit analysis will show that the long-term cost of competing with you will far exceed the short-term profit of any sum he could offer."

I let out a breath I wasn't even aware I'd been holding. "Thank you," I told him as I stood from the comfortable chair. Beside me, I saw Amy stand as well.

As I was about to turn around, he spoke again, "Lucy, I would like to speak with you alone, if I may."

Amy quickly glanced over at me. I nodded quickly at her and mouthed it's okay.

Sensing her apprehension, Celso spoke up: "this will only take a moment," he reassured her.

"It's okay," I told her, "I'll be out in a minute."

Amy didn't look happy about it, and I winced at the hurt expression on her face, but I think she probably understood that we didn't have a huge amount of choice in the matter.

I heard Amy's footsteps all walk evenly all the way to the doorway, then the loud click as the heavy oak door of his office closed and latched itself.

Celso stood and walked around the desk, it was eerie what happened when he took off his "mafia costume." It wasn't anything he wore, but there was a rather spooky difference between the man he was when he was acting on behalf of the Giacona family, and the man he was when he was just Celso.

"What's your plan?" He asked, bluntly.

"At the moment, I'm still hoping that I don't need one," I replied. "If all of his leads dry up, then it's over."

Celso tilted his head slightly, "Lucy, you don't believe that any more than I do."

"No, I don't," I admitted after a long pause.

"He's never going to stop," he added gently, "not until he's dead, or you are; both of you." He gestured at the door through which Amy had just disappeared. "He can bring a small army to bear on you, and he has the resources to pay them a lifetime's worth of cold, hard cash until he finds you. That kind of money buys some strong loyalties. You're just lucky that it won't buy mine."

"I know," I told him, offering a warm smile, "why do you think I came here?"

"And there are only two of you," he added finally. "And you have nothing to bargain with."

"I know all that," I told him. "I just don't know what to do about it."

"For one thing, you need to be armed and ready to go at a moment's notice," he started. "Second, you need to find something he wants more than you. Third, you need to find a way of giving it to him without getting yourself killed. And fourth, you need help."

"I'm guessing that's not you," I said wryly.

He shook his head. "The Family will not get involved unless there is a direct threat to their people or assets."

"I probably can't afford the mob's help anyway," I muttered.

"What about the DEB?" He asked, nodding at the door again.

"What about her?"

"Well, if you separate, go your separate ways, spread yourselves out, you have a chance. A lot better chance than you do if you're together, at any rate." He shrugged, "if nothing else, you'll probably take the heat off her… or Ronnie will grab her to smoke you out. It could go either way." He paused, looking intensely into my eyes, "I guess what I'm asking is: what does she mean to you?"

"What?"

"How far are you willing to go? You love her, it doesn't take a genius to spot that, but if you let her go, you're giving her a shot. So I need to know, right here and right now what makes her worth risking both of your lives for," he said. His tone was gentle, but his eyes bored into me, as if he could read my soul.

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a few calming breaths. "She reminds me what my life was like, before this was my life." I gestured around his office.

He nodded slowly. "Then you go all the way," he said firmly, "no matter the cost. And when it's over, you never look back. I've known you for a long time, Lucy, this life was never for you. You were good, maybe one of the best; but this was never your life."

He walked back behind his desk and slid one of the drawers opened. "Here," he said, "I have a feeling you're going to need these." He put a pair of handguns, Walther P99s, on the top of his desk.

I guess you have to be in this line of work to realize that the definition of the phrase "act of faith" is handing someone a deadly weapon.

I worked the action of one of the two pistols, hearing a single round slide into the chamber. Now that's the definition of an act of faith. It was even loaded. The P99 was a solid handgun; polymer casing, smooth double-action, it looked like the law-enforcement issue model; with the 16-round magazine. I didn't want to ask how he'd got his hands on a pair of them.

I slid the pistol into my inside jacket pocket. I hoped my aim was still sharp. I was a little out of practice. The other I held in my hand. That was Amy's

With a nod, I slowly backed away.

"Lucy," he called as I reached for the doorknob. I turned back to face him. "This is as far as I'm willing to go here. Unless the Family's assets are directly threatened, I can't go any further with this."

I nodded, "I understand." Even Celso's loyalty had its limits.

-x-

"This isn't a good sign, is it?" Amy said as I held the pistol butt-first to her.

"Let's just say that we should probably get some target practice," I said.

"So… what just happened?" Amy asked.

"I just bought us a little breathing room, but not much. A couple of weeks, maybe. Enough time to plan our next move, anyway."

"Do we have a next move?" Amy asked.

"We'd better, because sooner or later, Ronnie's gonna figure out where we are, and when he does, he's going to make sure his gun isn't loaded with blanks," I muttered through gritted teeth.

"So we send him back to jail. Sick the DEBS on him." Amy said. "I still have a little pull there."

I shook my head, "he'll just break out again. It'll never end."

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that when the dust settles, either him, me or both of us are gonna be dead."