Twenty-Five

 

The air was tense, Domenico’s guard up as he surveyed every street, which indicated we were close. He crept down one street and pointed at a ten-foot-high brick wall that surrounded a box-like structure.

“This is your house?” I asked as I stared up at the modern structure.

He remained silent as he hit something on his phone and a large gate slid open. He arranged the car and backed up through it, hitting the button again as soon as we were in. Another button and the garage door opened and he slipped the car in, then shut it as well.

“Quietly,” he whispered when his eyes met mine.

I nodded and grabbed the bags from the back seat and climbed out of the car, shutting the door as quietly as possible. He held his hand up, listening, then took my hand. We walked through a door that led to the backyard. And while it was surrounded by a huge privacy fence, he still walked quickly to the back door. Another press of something on his phone and he ushered me in, following right behind.