Chapter 5
Razor did not shout.
That scared me more.
He held the phone in one hand and looked straight at Denise.
She silently pressed record on her own device.
“What did you say?” Razor asked.
Bell laughed softly.
“Don’t play dumb. Ghost hid proof in that little brat’s jacket.”
My whole body went cold.
Little brat.
That was what I had been to him.
Not a child.
Not a daughter.
An obstacle wearing evidence.
Razor’s voice stayed calm.
“You stole her trust.”
“I managed assets.”
“You let her sleep outside.”
“That was unfortunate.”
I flinched.
Unfortunate.
That word again.
Denise leaned toward the phone.
“Mr. Bell, this is Denise Kwan, attorney for Emily Rodriguez. You are on a recorded line.”
Silence.
Then Bell’s voice sharpened.
“You people have no idea who you are threatening.”
Denise smiled without warmth.
“You called to threaten a sixteen-year-old.”
“She has property that does not belong to her.”
“My father’s jacket belongs to me,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
My voice shook, but I kept going.
“And so does whatever he left me.”
Bell went quiet.
Then he said, “Your father was a thief.”
Razor moved like the words had hit him.
I stood.
“No. He was the only person who ever stayed.”
Bell’s breathing changed.
“You sound like him.”
“Good.”
Denise gestured for me to stop.
Bell said, “You have until midnight. Jacket. Drive. No police. Or I send someone to collect.”
The call ended.
For a second, nobody spoke.
Then the room erupted.
Caruso wanted to ride to Bell’s office.
Razor wanted every brother in California called.
Maria wanted me moved somewhere secure.
Denise wanted the police involved immediately.
I stood in the middle of it feeling my body disappear.
I had spent two years surviving by staying invisible.
Now men were threatening to kill me over a dead man’s secrets.
Razor noticed first.
He raised one hand.
The room quieted.
“Emily.”
I looked at him.
“You with us?”
I wanted to say yes.
Instead, I whispered, “I’m scared.”
His face softened in a way I had not expected.
“Good. Fear tells you to pay attention. It doesn’t get to drive.”
Maria came to my side.
“You’re not sleeping in a shelter tonight.”
“Where am I going?”
“With me.”
Razor shook his head.
“No. Bell knows your shelter network.”
Maria snapped, “She is not staying at the clubhouse.”
“I wasn’t going to say clubhouse.”
“Then where?”
Caruso spoke from the doorway.
“My house.”
Everyone turned.
He lifted both hands.
“I’m old, not useless. My daughter lives two streets over. My place has cameras, a locked gate, and neighbors nosier than police scanners.”
I stared at him.
“You don’t know me.”
His eyes filled.
“I knew your father before his beard turned gray. I should have known you. That mistake ends today.”
Denise agreed.
Police were called.
A detective named Alvarez arrived within the hour.
She watched the video.
Listened to Bell’s threat.
Studied the will.
Then she looked at me.
“Emily, I’m sorry.”
I hated apologies from strangers.
But hers felt different.
Maybe because she looked angry.
Not at me.
For me.
“We need to place you under protective supervision,” she said.
I stiffened.
“That means foster care?”
“No. It means we document where you are, who is responsible, and how to keep you safe. You will not be forced anywhere tonight.”
My shoulders loosened a little.
Razor drove behind Caruso’s truck while Maria sat with me in the back seat.
For the first time in months, I watched streets pass without wondering which corner was safest to sleep near.
Caruso’s house was small and neat.
His daughter, Teresa, met us at the door holding a baseball bat.
“Dad, why are there twenty motorcycles outside?”
Caruso sighed.
“Long story.”
Then she saw me.
Her face changed.
“Oh.”
Not pity.
Recognition.
Like she had been told a ghost story and watched the ghost walk in hungry.
She made pasta.
I ate two bowls.
Then she set towels and clean clothes outside the bathroom.
I stared at the shower for a long time.
Hot water felt like a luxury almost too painful to accept.
When I came out, Dad’s jacket was still there, folded on the bed.
Nobody had touched it.
I slept with it over me.
For one hour.
Then shouting woke me.
I sat up in the dark.
Engines outside.
Voices.
Caruso yelling.
Teresa’s bat hit something hard.
I grabbed Dad’s jacket and ran into the hallway.
A brick lay inside the living room, surrounded by window glass.
A note was tied around it.
Caruso picked it up before I could.
His face went pale.
Razor burst through the front door.
“What?”
Caruso handed him the note.
Razor read it.
Then his eyes found mine.
“Emily.”
“What does it say?”
Nobody answered.
I snatched it from his hand.
May you like
There were only six words.
Ghost died because he chose wrong.
