The Story of the Trees - Sword, Ring, and Crown Book One

Chapter Three

Franco's Pizza wasn't far from Mike's Magic Shop, just a few blocks away at the intersection of a busy avenue in Little Italy. The place was a perfect stereotype of an old-school Italian restaurant—brown stucco walls, a green, white, and red awning over the door, and a wooden sign above it that read "Franco's" with wreaths of grapes around the edges. Inside, the decor was just as over-the-top, with red-and-white checkered tablecloths on the tables and accordion music drifting from the speakers in the ceiling.

Franco and Mike were two of Aisa's admirers. Both sought her favor, which meant they supported me—though Franco's support came in the form of under-the-table work. His decent wages and tips, combined with my free housing, allowed me to save money. I had five thousand dollars tucked away, waiting for the day I'd finally leave this place behind.

At Franco's, my job was to deliver what I was told was pizza. Franco's one rule: never look inside the bags. So, I never did.

After my detour to the dress shop, I sat on my bike outside the restaurant, dread weighing heavy on my chest as I thought about the trouble Mike had stirred up. Luis, always in tune with my emotions, leaned his body against my leg, his quiet presence comforting. I ran a hand through his fur, drawing strength from him. Then, taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked toward the restaurant.

Waiting for me outside was Dominic, Franco's son—and my closest friend in SF besides Luis.  At 6'2" with gray eyes, spiky hair, and a bit of extra weight, Dominic cut an imposing figure, though his boyish, handsome face made him approachable. He was three years older than me at 21,  and he always had a protective, almost motherly way of looking out for me.

But today, there was no cheesecake in his hands to feed me with, and his expression was strained with worry. His gray eyes flicked to me as soon as I approached, full of anguish.

Before I could say anything, Dominic pulled me off my bike and wrapped me in a tight hug, pressing me against his chest. I was a puny 5'2", and my face was smooshed against his right pectoral, making it hard to breathe. Luis barked in protest, but Dominic didn't let go until he'd dragged me away from the entrance.

"What are you doing?" I sputtered, my voice muffled by his shirt. Dominic was solid and strong, making it impossible to break free until he wanted me to.

Finally, he released me, his hand lingering on my arm as if he was afraid I might vanish. "Matt, something's happened," he whispered, his gray eyes clouded with concern. "Dad's furious. He thinks you stole from him."

"What?" I blinked, the pit in my stomach deepening. I had an idea where this was heading.

"Mike told him you took money from the deliveries," Dominic continued, his voice low but urgent. "He said you've been skimming, and that you didn't return one of the bags."

I felt the ground fall out from beneath me. Mike had betrayed me. I had suspected something earlier when Mike showered me with birthday gifts, but I hadn't wanted to believe it was this bad.

"Did he really say that?" My voice trembled, disbelief clear.

Dominic nodded, his jaw tightening. "I was there. He told Dad you were stealing, and now Dad's ready to make you pay."

Anger surged through me. "I can't believe this. I just left Mike's! He must have given me all this stuff because he felt guilty." I shook the backpack in frustration. "Ugh. Why? Let me talk to Franco. I need to clear this up." I tried to step toward the restaurant, but Dominic caught my arm again, his grip strong but gentle.

"Matt, don't," he warned softly. "Dad's beyond reason right now. I'm just trying to protect you."

Luis growled softly beside us, looking like he agreed with Dominic -- a total birthday miracle.