Not Your Destiny: Chapter 28

Marked
Book 1: Not Your Destiny

Chapter 28

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It’s mid-afternoon before the investigation is done enough to clear them for re-entry. The insurance agents arrive just past two, around the same time as Luca brings Gabi over. Tony takes the two agents in, armed with cameras and a tablet, while Luca, Gabi, and Ángel head toward the office.

It’s a mess. Ángel can see what Papi meant about pockets of water coming down, but it clearly wasn’t enough to save much. The roof is still stable, and the structure is sound, but everything inside reeks of soot and wet ash.

Ángel puts a hand over his mouth, tries to breathe through his fingers. Luca pauses in the hall, gives a bandana to Gabi before putting one over his own mouth and nose.

“It’s still going to taste like ash,” Gabi mutters before she puts on the bandana as well. Her voice is muffled. “It’s like trying to breathe with a horrible cold. Or in Los Angeles. LA smells like smoke all the time, and I don’t think most of the people there even notice.”

“When did you go to LA?” Ángel asks.

“Summer after graduation.” Gabi pushes the door to the office open, stops in the doorway, back straight and stiff. “Maritsa wanted to go to Disney but Cleto wanted to go to California, and Luca just wanted to go anywhere that was far away from Florida, so we figured we’d go to Los Angeles. It was fun, but our Disney’s still better.”

Ángel comes up close behind her, Luca flat against his back with his arms around Ángel, hands on Gabi’s shoulders. Ángel swallows hard, tries to process what he sees.

“It’s a fucking mess,” Luca grumbles.

The phone rings.

They all stare at it, as if it’s going to somehow answer itself. Gabi finally takes a step forward just as Luca steps back. In the distance, Ángel can hear the low rumble of voices as Tony talks to the insurance people.

The phone goes silent just as Gabi’s hand falls on the receiver. She exhales, and it starts to ring again.

“Mollicone’s,” Gabi says flatly as she picks up the phone. She winces, steps back, the phone pulled out from her ear. Ángel can’t make out the words, but he can clearly hear the anger in the voice on the other side, and the volume. “Excuse me,” Gabi tries to interrupt, but the voice keeps going. She takes off the bandana to uncover her mouth, and growls low in her throat before snapping loudly, “Excuse me!”

The phone goes silent.

Gabi reaches out for her chair, pauses as she touches the top of it. She raises her hand again, soot across her fingertips. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice breaking. “We literally just got back in the building a few minutes ago. We don’t know what records are still safe. I haven’t even looked at the cars on the lot. We understand that you’re concerned about your car, but right now, no matter how upset you are about the fire, I don’t have any more information for you. And I can assure you, we are far more upset than you.”

There’s no answer before she hangs up. Her sooty hand curls tight, and Luca moves past Ángel and reaches out, drags her in and nuzzles the top of her head while he holds her.

Ángel swallows, uncomfortable and unreasonably angry at the caller from the other side of the line.

The phone rings again, and Ángel gets to it before Gabi can.

“Mollicone’s,” he says, quickly following it up with, “we don’t have any news yet about the status of any cars in for repair, and ask that you plan to call back in 24 to 48 hours, please.”

Silence for a long moment, then a long low breath. “Is there anything you need?” the voice on the other end of the line asks, and Angel’s so surprised at the question that he has no idea how to respond. “I’m sorry,” the voice says. “You’ve been good to me over the last year. My car’s a mess, but it’s important to me, and I’m thankful for all the hard work. It’s not there right now. It’s safe. I’m not worried. But your shop meant a lot to all of you, and I know there are people out there who care.”

Gabi hiccups, holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers. Ángel places the phone in her hand, and she curls tight against Luca’s chest as she responds. “Hey, Stephen.”

Ángel can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Gabi smiles at something Stephen says. She looks around, makes a face. “Yeah, we’re probably going to be hungry later, but this isn’t the place to eat. I appreciate the offer, though, and thanks for thinking of us. Once we’ve got things cleaned up, when we’re in the rebuild phase, come feed us then. Right now everything just smells and tastes like ash. Eating here wouldn’t be a good idea.” Silence again, and Gabi nods, laughs.

“Yeah, well you try to keep your car running until we’re open again,” she says, smirking. “Although for you, maybe we’ll make a house call. We’ll have to see.” She nods to whatever Stephen says, then reaches out to replace the phone on the cradle.

Ángel grabs the phone and removes the cable from the back, unplugging it. “No more calls,” he says. “Not until we’re—you’re—ready.” It’s not his place, and he knows it, but he already feels like he has a stake in it, even after just a couple of weeks.

“Probably for the best,” Gabi agrees. She shoves her hands in her pockets, shoulders tense and pushed up near her ears. Her lower lip is caught between her teeth as she surveys the room. “Okay, here’s how we’re going to do this. Tony’s handling the claim, and I’m going to start boxing up whatever paperwork I can and putting it in the back of Luca’s car. We’re going to have to go through it, see what we’ve got on the current pile that’s still readable, and contact all of those people. In the meantime, you and Luca go out onto the lot and take an inventory of every car. Look for damage from the fire, or damage from water. Take down the license plate, make, and model, and we’ll match it all up tonight or tomorrow so we can make calls. It’s going to suck, but it’s got to get done.”

They need something to write on. Ángel hovers, not sure where to even look.

Finally Luca steps past Gabi, pulls open the top drawer of one of the filing cabinets. He pulls out a box, takes a pen, then finds a pad of paper. “Cabinets stayed dry, and it looks like water cleaned them off.”

There’s a puddle on top of the cabinets, spreading out from roughly the center, as if it fell in a deluge straight from the ceiling. Ángel huffs. “I tried to call water. Apparently I saved the files. We’ll figure out if anything else came through unscathed.”

“Come on.” Luca hands the paper and pen to Ángel, then drops an arm around his shoulders to steer him out of the office.

Behind them, there’s the squeak of wheels on the floor as Gabi moves one of the chairs, then the creak of a drawer opening. Ángel hears her breath catch before Luca gets him out of range. As soon as they’re outside, Luca strips off his bandana and shoves it in his pocket, wincing as he inhales the scent of ash lingering in the air.

They start out back, and it’s a mess. The tow truck is blackened, the belts melted, the chains hanging awkwardly. The tires are flat, and it lists as if something somehow tilted it over. When they walk around the other side, that side is burnt more, the car next to it a husk.

Luca licks his lips, shakes his head. “I was going to say it’s a good thing nothing exploded, but I’m not sure whether it did or not. Something burned hot back here.”

“Tony smelled accelerant,” Ángel says quietly. “Whoever it was might have put it on that car, used it as one of the starting points for the fire. Either way, that car’s a loss.”

It’s only two spots over from where Helga was parked, and the Mustang had been on the other side of the tow truck. It’s not just lucky that Ángel and Tony are alive, it’s good luck for the cars as well.

Luca moves in with his phone out, clicking as he takes shots of the tow truck first, then the damaged car. He rubs at the side, then nods to himself before reeling off the make and model for Ángel to write down. Angel’s surprised to realize that it was Tony’s SUV, and he didn’t even recognize it and didn’t remember that they’d parked in that spot. He’s not sure how Luca recognized it, but Luca’s worked on a much larger variety of cars, for a lot longer than Ángel has.

They go through the lot slowly. There are two cars far at the back that have water damage and some soot, but don’t seem to be burned. Several are partially burned, and two are simply gone, turned to husks by the flames. Luca leans in close and sniffs by those, wrinkling his nose as he straightens. “Tony’s right. I don’t know what it is, but I smell something,” he says.

“I’m sure the investigators noticed that these cars were starting points for the fire,” Ángel says. He gestures to the driveway along the side. “There were three cars out front, plus the one that was on the floor that we didn’t drive out; whatever you were working on in your bay last.”

Luca makes a face, then grabs the pad of paper and makes notes. “BMW and the owner’s kind of an ass,” he grumbles. “This isn’t going to go well.” He pauses, nose wrinkling as he sighs roughly. “That might be who called earlier and was ripping Gabi apart. I’m going to have to be the one to call him. I don’t want her to have to deal with him.”

“If they can’t understand it’s not your fault….” Ángel trails off, shakes his head because he doesn’t understand people.

As they walk along the side, he can see spots where it looks like the fire burned hotter. Places where the wood still stands, and other places where it’s burned through, hot and hard. He looks up, somehow surprised at how stable the roof still is. Either they got to it in time, or his attempt to call water helped more than he thought.

He wiggles his fingers, hoping he had some positive effect on this mess. It’s not much, but at least it’s something.

There’s a new car just pulling in when they get out front, the fire department logo on the side. Luca shoves the paper and pen back into Angel’s hands and lengthens his stride, heading quickly to meet it. He’s there before the door opens, waiting as a man steps out from the driver’s seat, and Daphne emerges from the passenger side. There’s a kid in the back, and as soon as Daphne gets the door open, the kid is out, staring curiously at Luca and Ángel, brow furrowed.

“I’m Ronnie Hamilton,” the driver introduces himself. He’s still in uniform, one of the official investigators, and Ángel’s surprised that Daphne’s with him. “I’m just heading off shift, and I wanted to stop by and check in before I finished up. Daphne insisted on coming with me.”

“Ronnie’s my brother,” Daphne says, her smile soft and too sweet to be real. “I wanted to make sure that Tony’s okay and that everything’s being done to help him.” She glances across at Ronnie. “I’m so glad that my brother’s able to be a part of this investigation.”

“Papi’s in charge,” Ángel says. Daphne’s expression flickers for a moment, darkening before the smile comes back. The kid doesn’t smile at all, inching closer and looking closely at Ángel.

Ronnie considers him, then sticks a hand out. “You must be Marcos Cruz’s boy. He mentioned that you’ve been doing some work here.”

Ángel doesn’t want to touch him, not when Daphne’s standing right there, smiling like everything’s perfect. But he reaches out, clasps Ronnie’s hand just long enough before he lets go.

He refuses to lie and say it’s nice to meet him.

“I was here on Sunday,” Ángel says, tone flat. “Tony and I were working on my car.”

“I’m sure they took a statement,” Ronnie says.

“Luca Bianchi.” Luca pushes past Ángel, offers his hand and waits when Ronnie’s slow to take it. “I work here regularly, and if you want to do any official investigating, I can take you in.” His gaze shifts to Daphne. “You should stay out. It’s not exactly clean and neat inside.”

“I’m not afraid of a little dirt,” Daphne says. “I’d like to see for myself that Tony’s all right.”

“We’re not giving sight-seeing tours,” Luca says dryly. “I’ll let him know you’re here, and you can wait outside.” Luca motions at the door, yanks it open and holds it for Ronnie. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Angel’s left standing there with Daphne and a kid, and no idea what to do.

“You have a cat,” the kid says, pointing at Angel’s wrist.

“Ben,” Daphne says quietly. Her gaze is fixed on his wrist as well, and he considers pulling it in close to his chest, cradling it so they can’t see.

But he won’t let her intimidate him, either, so he pushes his arm closer, raising an eyebrow when Ben takes a step back rather than let Ángel come close to touching him. Ángel holds his arm with the wrist out, showing the ink. “Yes,” Ángel says. “I have a cat.”

Ben’s chin tilts up and he crosses his arms, gaze narrowed and brow furrowed. “I hate cats,” he says simply. “All cats.”

“I like them,” Ángel counters, raising one eyebrow because he’s absolutely certain he’s not having the same conversation as this strange little kid. “In fact, I like some cats more than I like some people.”

Ben’s mouth goes tight, twisted and angry. He opens his mouth, closing it again as Daphne’s hand falls on his shoulder.

“Ben,” she says quietly. “Why don’t you wait in the car for your dad to be done.”

“Okay, Aunt Daphne.” Ben’s attention shifts back to Ángel for a moment before he climbs back into the car, the door still open. Ben pulls out a phone, and looks down, and it’s as if Ángel is forgotten.

Daphne heads for the door, and Ángel has to dart forward to intercept her before she can get it open. “Luca said no,” Ángel reminds her.

“You don’t actually own this place, and neither does he,” Daphne says curtly. “I just want to talk to Tony.”

“Gabi does own this place and she’s in there, and do you really want to deal with her when she’s already pissed off?” Ángel warns. He spots a car coming down the street, exhales. “And if you want another opinion, Zita’s coming. You can talk to her.”

Daphne freezes, turns slowly and pastes on a smile as Zita pulls into the lot, followed by Tanner’s truck. “How lovely. I haven’t seen Zita in ages.”

Angel’s pretty sure there’s a good reason for that.

“Ángel!” Emerson yells, waving as he spills out from the back seat of the truck. He makes it over to Ángel before Hayley even climbs out. Bubbles hover near his head, popping with high-pitched sounds that Ángel can barely hear. Bright and shining grey, silver and gold around the edges, and more numerous than Ángel can ever remember seeing.

Ángel opens his arms, pulls Emerson in for a hug. As Emerson exhales, relaxing in relief, it reminds Ángel of Luca and Gabi.

Emerson’s going to make a good cat.

Emerson pulls back, crosses his arms as he chews on his lip. “Tanner said you were fine, but still—I saw Helga, too. I’m glad no one got hurt.” Emerson waves a hand next to his face, pushes a string of three bubbles away as they linger for a moment before popping.

“Don’t get agitated,” Tanner cautions.

“Hi, I’m Daphne.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Zita interrupts, pushing between Daphne and Emerson, nudging him back from the crowd. “Daphne, I don’t want you on my property. Emerson—”

“My brother’s inside,” Daphne points out mildly. “He’s on your investigative team and wanted to stop by on his way home. I’m waiting here, with his son.”

Zita has an arm around Emerson’s shoulder and moves him another step away. “Fine,” she says curtly, nodding at the ground. “As long as you wait right there, not an inch out of that space. And stop disturbing my friends.”

“Ángel—” Hayley stops when he brings a hand up, rocks back on her heels. “What?”

Her expression is hurt, and Ángel changes his mind, motions her close and hugs her hard, then holds out an arm for Tanner. He murmurs while they’re all close together, “I’m going inside, because I don’t know if Luca’s been able to tell Tony that Daphne’s here. We’ve got insurance agents, an investigator, and too many people.”

Hayley nods rapidly, and Tanner claps him on the back. “Don’t worry, we’ll just be out here.”

Ángel didn’t think otherwise; as long as Emerson’s nearby with Zita, Tanner isn’t going anywhere. Zita manages to peel Emerson away from the others, taking him over to her car and climbing into the back with him. As Ángel turns back to the shop, the door opens and the two insurance agents emerge, pausing to shake Tony’s hand.

Daphne clears her throat, and Tony’s head comes up abruptly, stares at their small group. Daphne takes a step toward the shop, and Tony disappears from view, the door slamming closed.

“Obviously he knows you’re here,” Ángel says.

Daphne skewers him with a look. “I’m going in.”

“No,” Ángel says. “You’re not. And if your brother were out here with you, he’d say the same. You’re not part of the investigation, and you don’t work here—you don’t belong in that building right now. It’s been cleared for us to go in, but we can’t work in it, and it’s not habitable. Stay right here.” He grins, tries to make it sharp like Gabi does. “Besides. Zita’s right there. Do you really want to walk in when she told you not to?”

“Ángel—” Hayley says, stopping when he gets a hand up.

“Would you mind hanging out here with Daphne and Ben?” Ángel hates throwing Tanner and Hayley under the bus like this, he really does. But at the same time, there is no way in hell he’s letting her go in there right now.

He doesn’t give them a chance to say no, hurries to the door and pulls it open, disappearing into the darkness.

“Tony?” he calls out.

“He’s with Hamilton,” Luca says quietly. He’s leaning on the hood of the burned BMW. It’s not as bad as Ángel thought it would be, but it’s definitely going to be totaled. “Tony wants to talk to him about the accelerant; Hamilton thinks they got everything they needed earlier.”

“He’s avoiding Daphne,” Ángel says softly, and Luca nods. When Ángel leans next to him, Luca bumps his shoulder.

“Yeah, he is,” Luca murmurs. “Tony doesn’t want to deal with much right now, and I can’t blame him. You guys could’ve died. She thinks she’s being supportive, but… it’s not what he wants.”

“What do you think would help him most?” Ángel stares across the floor, watching as Tony directs Ronnie Hamilton’s attention to various places along the wall. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye, the way Luca turns and just looks at him. “What? You guys keep saying I’m family. Let me treat you the same.”

“In a perfect world? To go back in time and have the fire not happen,” Luca mutters dryly. “Obviously that’s not going to happen. I think he needs a distraction, and I don’t know what that is, but it isn’t Daphne. We need to take some time off, until we hear back and someone says we can start ripping this place apart. After that, I think the best thing for Tony will be getting to rebuild.”

In the distance, Tony glances over at them, just for a moment.

“Enforced holiday tomorrow, then,” Ángel says, running under the assumption that Tony can hear him. “Even if we just spend the whole day watching movies and eating bad food.”

Luca snorts. “Go on, convince Tony to eat bad food.”

“We could hand feed him chocolate,” Ángel says idly. “Pretend it’s something healthy, like grapes, then switch it out at the last second.”

Luca snorts again, and on the other side of the room, the rumble of Tony’s voice goes silent. Tony turns back, Ronnie following the path of his gaze after a moment, as if he’s realized he’s lost Tony’s attention.

Luca raises one hand in greeting, lowers it slowly when Tony stares at him. He uses it to push at Ángel, shoving him toward the hallway. “Maybe we should go check on Gabi,” he announces loudly as they both stumble off the floor.

“I can hear you being idiots,” Gabi calls out. “Get in here. Help me carry shit to the cars.”

The file cabinets are open, and the desks look like someone ransacked the place. Everything is empty, packed into plastic bins that Ángel has no memory of anyone bringing in. The tattoo printer sits on his desk, sooty but unmelted.

Gabi smiles slightly. “Look what made it through. Why don’t you carry that to your car, Ángel. Is she road ready enough to take home for now? If not, put it in mine. Everything else is going in Zita’s car. As the major shareholder with a car that’s actually functional, she has to take charge of the business for now. We’ll bring it back after the cleanup is done and we’ve done an inventory of what we’ve got. I need to make phone calls tomorrow, get a dumpster delivered for when we’re ready to do demolition.”

That’s what makes Angel’s heart ache, twisting uncomfortably. Luca grabs him, pulls him close, muttering, “You reek, Ángel.”

Standing there, with Gabi and Luca holding on tight, feels good.

“Let’s get this out of here. Tomorrow is enough time for figuring out what comes next,” Gabi says. She jabs a finger, points at the heaviest of the bins. “Go on, Luca. Lift. Carry.”

“Your wish is my command.” Luca grins.

Ángel trails along after him, carrying only the printer, but to him, it feels like the heaviest of loads. So many things that could’ve made it through, and this is the one thing that has. It makes him wonder.

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