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I shot Uncle Theo a look and shook my head. He nodded and gave me another warm squeeze.

"I'm glad you're safe, Jellybean. Make sure you give me your new number, and maybe call an old man from time to time, huh? You know I worry." He kissed the top of my head before striding off to his car, waving as he pulled away.

Joey made a contemplative sound as we headed down the stairs to the drive toward the waiting Bentley. Joey opened the door and waited.

"Our three hours starts now. You're not docking time for this." I called out over my shoulder before climbing into the car. Joey slid in next to me and shut the door.

Twenty minutes later, the car pulled up in front of a run-down little sandwich shop that I didn't recognize. The brick was sun-bleached, and the awning was faded. The sign that read 'Eileen's' looked like it had seen better days. I looked around Joey and arched a brow. A slight smirk pulled up one side of his lips in amusement.

"Trust me, Greg and Eileen, make the best sandwiches in Sacona. Consider it an honor, because it's kind of a local secret." He opened the door and helped me out of the car. "I'd rather get my money's worth of good food than pay $30 a plate and be hungry again in an hour."

"Fair point," I said, following him in. A bell dinged as we walked in, alerting the staff that there were customers. The restaurant was largely empty, and a bored young woman looked up from the counter.

"Grab a seat anywhere. What can I get you to drink?" She drawled, punctuating her sentences with a loud pop of her chewing gum.

"Couple of sweet teas, unless you're feeling a coffee?" Joey asked, giving me room to order for myself if I disagreed. I smiled and squeezed his arm.

"Tea is fine. You know this place, so I'll trust you for what's good." He led me to a small booth at the far end of the shop, the red leather worn well beyond its prime to a sort of faded pink.

"Everything is good."

We chatted for a few minutes about what to order before we decided on our meal. I looked out the large window and watched the few people meandering around, unsure how to reconcile the feelings whirling inside me. With anyone else, on any other day, this could have been a perfectly normal lunch date–outing. This definitely wasn't a date. It wasn't an average outing, either. This was a gangster escorting me around the city because people kept trying to kill me. And I wasn't totally convincedtheyweren't the ones who'd tried.

"Victoria…" Joey started softly.

I blinked in confusion. I'm not sure I'd heard my actual name from any of them since the day I arrived. His face was pensive as he stared at his hands. He opened his mouth a few times as if he wanted to say something, then closed it again.

"So, what do you do for fun when you're not stuck babysitting?" I offered. Maybe a change of topic would ease him into working around to whatever he wanted to say. "The guys drag you down to the gun range or something?"

He arched a brow at me and laughed. "Sometimes, but I'm the one dragging them usually. They get rusty if they don't keep at it, and the amount of times I've had to show Az how to properly clean his gun is almost embarrassing." He leaned back in his seat and gave me a look I couldn't quite decipher. "But I also enjoy the cello. It's been a while since I've had time to play, but here's hoping things calm down enough that I'll be able to soon."

"You play cello? Somehow, that wasn't what I imagined when I pictured you doing things for fun." I chuckled, sipping the sweet tea we'd been brought.

"Yeah? What'd you picture? High-speed chases, working out, kicking down doors? That kind of thing?"

"I don't know… something like that, maybe. To be honest, I have a hard time picturing most of you with hobbies." The wordsfell out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I looked at him from beneath my lashes, hoping I hadn't offended him. He'd been so kind, and for some reason, upsetting him was the last thing I wanted to do.

"Yeah, I gathered. You know, we're not just gangsters, Sweetheart. Listen…" He trailed off, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck and looking out the window. "We're… ugh…"

"Joey, look–"

"No, give me a second. I'm not always good at getting stuff out. I know how you see us, and I know what you think happened. I'd say in your shoes, I'd probably think the same thing. But It's not what it seems to be. We're… we're not the good guys, Victoria. But we're not bad guys, and we're notthosebad guys." He sighed again, scrubbing his hand across his face. "We never would have done anything against you, or the youth center. You don't have to believe me right now, but maybe… eventually you'll put the pieces together. Being around you, and getting to know you, proved to me we were wrong about our assumptions to start with, too."

"Well, the other guys don't seem to share your opinion. They watch me like I'm a fox that got into the hen house." I grumbled, leaning back in my seat.

"You're half right, but it's definitely not what you think." He smirked like there was something funny about the comment. "They're stubborn, Sweetheart, but they'll come around."

"Savannah Salad and French Dip with extra Swiss?" Our waitress drawled as she set the plates down.

We mumbled thanks and spent the rest of our meal in relative silence while I considered his words. There was a stark sincerity to them that was hard to brush off.

If Joey was right, and we'd all been so very wrong about each other, then where did that leave me?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Victoria

The outing with Joey left me craving more normalcy. After the attack at the club and the events that followed, I wanted nothing more than to return to my routine. I needed to get back to the center. I'd been absent since the gala fire. It was the most time I'd spent away from my work at the youth center since I was a teenager, refusing to go as an act of rebellion. My soul needed the work I did for the youth as much as my normal routine.