Luca drove fast the entire way. His hands sat rigid on the wheel and there was a tension in his shoulders I wasn't used to seeing. He'd always been calm and collected, the kind of man whose composure made courtrooms fall quiet. This was the first time I'd seen him so on edge, and the fact that he didn't try to hide it unsettled me almost as much as what I'd left behind.
I pulled a cigarette from my bag and held it up toward him. "Mind if I smoke?"
Luca shook his head.
I lit it and rolled the window halfway down. As soon as I did, he eased off the gas. Cold wind rushed into the car and hit me square in the face, carrying with it the faint diesel scent of the waterfront district where Falcone shipping containers sat stacked like dark monuments.
I exhaled a long trail of smoke before speaking. "You got a place I can crash? I've just been kicked out and need somewhere to stay, for now."
He glanced over at me briefly. "Yeah."
Just one word. But from Luca, one word was a promise notarized.
By the time I finished my cigarette, Luca had already pulled over on a quiet side street lined with old brownstones, the kind of block that looked residential enough to stay off anyone's radar.