Chapter 15 - The Man Who Finally Stopped Buying HoneySome Debts Are Paid With Blood, Others With The Truth
Salvatore stood in the tunnel with no weapon visible.
He didn't need one.
His presence was enough.
Marco raised his gun.
Salvatore looked at him.
"Put it down."
Marco didn't move.
Salvatore smiled.
"You were always the loyal one."
Marco lowered his weapon.
I stared.
"What are you doing?"
Marco looked at me.
"Buying us time."
Salvatore stepped closer.
"You've caused more trouble than your father ever did."
"Why did you kill him?"
"I didn't."
"You lied."
"Your father died because Vincent betrayed him."
"Then why did you help Vincent?"
Salvatore sighed.
"I thought he could control the situation."
"You handed him my family."
"No."
He looked at Dante.
"I handed him an empire."
Dante moved.
Barely.
His hand found the gun beside him.
Salvatore looked down.
"You should stay still."
Dante raised the weapon.
"You should have killed me years ago."
Salvatore smiled.
"I tried."
Dante fired.
Salvatore ducked.
Marco fired simultaneously.
The tunnel erupted.
Salvatore disappeared through the rear corridor.
We followed.
The tunnel ended beneath my original honey table.
Outside, dawn had begun.
Police lights appeared at the market entrance.
I froze.
"Who called them?"
Marco smiled.
"Elias Grant."
I stared.
"But Grant is dead."
"His evidence wasn't."
He held up a small drive.
"Everything was uploaded."
The files.
The photographs.
The recordings.
The names.
The bribes.
The murders.
The entire organization was about to collapse.
Salvatore was caught at the river.
He didn't resist.
He simply looked at me.
"You still don't understand."
"What?"
"The people who built this world are not all criminals."
I stared.
"Some are judges."
"Some are police."
"Some are people you trust."
He smiled.
"Enjoy your victory."
Then they took him away.
Dante was rushed to the hospital.
He survived.
Three weeks later, Riverside Farmers Market reopened.
The broken stalls were replaced.
The old honey table was restored.
My bees had survived too.
Not all.
But enough.
I stood behind my table when a black SUV pulled up.
Dante stepped out.
No bodyguards.
No Marco.
No entourage.
Just Dante.
He approached.
I smiled.
"You finally came back."
He looked at the jars.
"I need eight."
I laughed.
"Still buying everything?"
"No."
He picked up one jar.
"Just one."
"Progress."
He reached into his coat.
I held up my hand.
"Forty-eight dollars."
He smiled.
"Six dollars."
"Exactly."
He gave me six.
I put the jar in a paper bag.
Then he stayed.
Not because he needed honey.
Because he finally knew how to stay somewhere without running from his own head.
We sat beneath the same crooked awning.
The same awning he had once held for me.
He looked toward the empty road.
"I haven't slept that well in years."
I smiled.
"Maybe you're getting better."
He looked at me.
"You were right."
"About what?"
"My body wanted rest."
"And your head?"
He took a breath.
"For the first time."
He looked at me.
"It doesn't."
I reached for his hand.
Before either of us could say anything else, a little girl ran across the market.
Dark curls.
Hazel eyes.
She was carrying a jar of honey.
Lily.
She stopped in front of us.
"Dad?"
Dante looked up.
"Yes?"
She held out the jar.
"I found this under the table."
My smile disappeared.
There was a label on it.
My father's handwriting.
One word.
SALVATORE.
Dante slowly took the jar.
Inside the honey was something dark.
A key.
But this time, the key had no number.
It had a name engraved across the metal.
VINCENT.
I stared at Dante.
"Vincent is dead."
Dante looked at the key.
Then toward the road.
A black car was parked across the street.
Nobody was inside.
The engine was still running.
The rear window lowered by itself.
A phone sat on the seat.
It began ringing.
Dante stood.
I grabbed his arm.
"Don't."
He looked at me.
"Why?"
"Because every time we answer a phone, someone tries to kill us."
He smiled.
"Fair point."
The phone kept ringing.
Lily picked it up.
"Dad."
Dante turned.
"What?"
She held the phone toward him.
"There's a message."
He took it.
One sentence appeared on the screen.
YOU FOUND THE HONEY.
Then another.
NOW FIND THE BEEKEEPER.
Dante looked at me.
"Who is the beekeeper?"
I swallowed.
Behind us, inside my old barn, one of the surviving hives began to hum.
Louder.
And louder.
Then every bee in the yard lifted into the air at once.
Thousands of them.
Moving in one dark cloud toward the road.
Dante stared.
I whispered.
"My father used to say bees only swarm when they know their queen is in danger."
Dante looked at me.
"Where is the queen?"
I turned toward the barn.
A woman was standing in the doorway.
Silver hair.
Hazel eyes.
My mother.
She was supposed to be dead.
She smiled.
And held up a second jar.
This one was marked with today's date.
She mouthed four words.
"They know where you are."
The black car accelerated away.
Dante reached for his gun.
I grabbed the honey jar.
And for the first time, I understood the truth.
May you like
The war had never ended.
It had only been waiting for us to open the right jar.
