Текст книги "Spin"
Автор книги: C. D. Reiss
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 13 страниц)
thirty-three.
The little house stood up into the foothills behind a hundred feet of allergens. It could have been in the Tennessee mountains for all its foliage and acreage. A skinny kid of about nineteen with an acne problem sat on the porch. He stood when Zo and I drove up.
“Don,” Zo said, “this is Theresa. The boss formally introduced her tonight.”
“Huh,” the kid huffed, as if surprised. “All right, then. Piacere.” His accent was terrible, but he kissed me on both cheeks, left then right.
“Donatello’s gonna be on the porch. He’s keeping his eyes on you so, don’t worry about him.” Zo punched the kid in the arm, and he almost fell over.
“Thanks,” the kid said.
“This is a safe house, isn’t it?” I said.
“Used to be. Now it’s just safe.”
He took me through the two-bedroom house, which looked more lived in than any safe house I’d seen in movies. I saw old world touches all over in the unfinished wood and hand-painted ceramics. The quilt on my bed was deep burgundy, the oil paintings showed seashores and mountains, and the kitchen, the only ultra-modern part of the house, had a basket of fresh fruit on the counter.
“This is Antonio’s house?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“It’s smaller than my loft.”
Zo shrugged. “He likes it that way.”
“Can you bring Katrina? It’s her I’m worried about.”
“Boss has it covered. He takes care of his people. And after tonight, you’re with us.” Zo kissed me on both cheeks again and left.
* * *
“Katrina? Are you all right?”
“I got a shard of swan in my foot, I want you to know.”
I was curled up on a strange couch, in a strange house, with a strange guy on the porch to protect me. I had the news on and muted. The ticker moved, and the heads talked. “There’s a guy coming to get a bag for me. Can you put some stuff in it?”
“Cups? Plates? Saucers? What do you want?”
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“When I’m not crying, I’m fine. God, I botched this.”
“We’ll make it right. I don’t know how, but we will. It’s a good movie.”
“I’m going to my parents in the OC tomorrow. I’ll stay a few days and get my shit together. If he chases me there, my dad will just shoot him.”
“Great plan.”
She sniffed. “Do you want the electric toothbrush? Or a regular one?”
“Regular. I don’t intend to be gone long enough to charge the electric one.”
“Okay. I gotta go. Michael’s coming over.”
“Really?”
Daniel’s face appeared on the screen. The ticker told me he was doing the unprecedented: opening a major case against an organized crime family at the tail end of a mayoral campaign.
“Reckless asshole,” I mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. Have fun with Michael. And, Kat?”
“Yes?”
“There are going to be men around watching you. Stay calm, okay?”
“Jesus, Tee Dray, what are you into?”
“I don’t know, but I think I’m up to my eyeballs.”
* * *
I slept on the couch until the navy sky faded into morning cyan. He came to me in a haze of pine and musk. His lips were my awakening, the hard firearm at his back a reflection of the hardness between his legs.
“Capo,” I whispered through my sleep.
“Ah, Contessa. I could barely talk tonight. All I wanted to do was make peace so I could fuck you every day and night.” He pulled up my shirt and kissed my belly.
“Is this about the trouble with your men?”
“Done for now. Tie up loose ends tomorrow.” He pushed up my bra.
I wove my fingers in his hair when he sucked my nipples. “I can go to work?”
“Shh. No talking.” He pulled away and got on his knees, looking at me. He yanked at my skirt and panties, slipping them off. “Spread your legs.” He shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his shirt. “Touch yourself.” There was a sense of urgency about his manner as he wiggled out of the last of his clothes.
I watched him with my fingers between my legs, stroking my hardened, wet clit. “I want you so bad.” I moaned. “I want you inside me.”
“Shh.” He put his cock at my opening. He thrust forward.
I put my hands on his shoulders, letting the thrust of his hips take me. He took my hands and pinned them to my sides, wrapping his arms around me tight. He pressed the whole of his body to mine as if he was trying to crawl into my skin. If he did, I couldn’t have stopped him. He had me powerless under his weight, restrained by his desire. My legs were free but pinioned by the fulcrum of his cock.
“Every day,” he whispered, “I’ll take you like this. In the morning, before coffee, I fuck you. At night, I fuck you harder. In our bedroom, our living room, our kitchen, I’ll love you in every room. Amore mio, I’ll break you with my love and put you back together. And when I retire, you still call me Capo because you’re mine. Always mine.”
His lips spoke into my cheek. I felt wrapped in him, past, present and future. I had no whim or hunger outside the building pleasure in my legs and safe pressure of his skin and muscle.
I gasped. I was going to come. I wondered if my explosion would be held down, tamped by the weight of his arms and the swirling affection in his words. But my orgasm came in a flood. My back arched, and my thighs got stiff. I saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing but Antonio. His weight, his breath, his scent, and his pleasure, concurrent with mine, swirled together inside my skin, and I, inside his.
* * *
We stayed wrapped around each other for a long time, just breathing together. I was so tired, I fell asleep under him. He whispered mi amore, kissing my neck and shoulders, then relaxed his arms.
“My Capo,” I said. “Always.”
“You should sleep.” He brushed wet strands of hair from my face as if it was of great concern. “I brought your bag.”
“I hope she packed work clothes.”
“You stay here today. I haven’t taken care of the strozzino yet.”
“Antonio, please. I have to live.”
He pressed his fingers to my lips. “What do you think happened last night?”
“I followed the bouncing ball.”
“You are under my protection. My crew recognizes you. They can’t touch you, and they will protect you. But you also have a responsibility to us to stay out of trouble. For a few days, things will be disrupted. Bruno and Vito, they’re doing their own thing. I didn’t want that. Vito, with the young girls…” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t like it, but…” He looked up and crooked his neck as if shaking off the thought. “We have to pay tribute to another family, so everyone recognizes them as their own thing, not just us. This has to be completed before I can let you walk around without an escort.”
“What?” I sat up, and he moved off me.
“I couldn’t isolate you and keep you safe. This was the only way. You’re untouchable now, as long as you obey the rules.”
“What are the rules?”
“Do not talk to the press or police. Not talk about our business with anyone. Not ask questions.” He held up his hand to my pending objections. “You can ask me. But no one else. I have all the information. My men only know some things, and if they talk, you get half the story. And I know what can hurt you.”
“You might have mentioned this before all the double kissing happened.”
“What am I asking? That you be loyal? That you come to me first? Only the saying of it makes you sit up and cross your arms.”
I huffed. Of course he was right. Of course I had no intention of ratting him out or investigating him further. It was indeed the list of rules that bristled me.
“This needs to be on a probationary basis,” I said.
“One minute probation,” he said then kissed me, his hand tight on my jaw, his tongue prying my mouth open. He stopped. “My minute’s up, Contessa. Are you still mine?”
“You are my Capo,” I whispered. “But I’m mad at you.”
“Get in the shower then before I fuck you again.”
* * *
Katrina had packed everything I needed. One set of work clothes, one set of regular clothes. Shoes, toiletries, and a note.
Tee – Thank you for everything. You are a shining star. I promise not to let you down. You’ll be proud of me one day.
Be safe, okay?
The Directrix
When I got out of the bathroom, Antonio held up my phone. “What are we going to do about this guy?”
There was a text from Daniel.
—need to speak with you in person by tomorrow—
“What are we going to do about you looking at my texts?”
“As long as you’re talking to him and the thing is face up on the table, I’ll look.”
“You don’t trust me?” I asked.
“I do.”
“I think you’re missing an opportunity to get some inside information, Capo.”
He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze. “Contessa.”
“If I don’t see him, he’s going to get suspicious. He’s just opened a case against, I’m assuming, you? Knowing I might be with you? Let me see him and find out what he wants.”
“You’re going to spy for me? I don’t want that from you, ever.”
“To be honest, I just want to go home and have kind of a normal day. You know, one where I don’t see a gun or take part in some ritual I don’t understand.”
“And you need to see Daniel Brower to do that?”
“He’s not a loan shark or a baby capo looking for territory. He’s not going to hate you any more than he already does, and he’ll never touch me. What’s the harm in me putting on my work clothes and taking a lunch?” I put my hands on his forearms, and he dropped them. “We’ll be in public. I promise.” I slipped my hands around his waist and held him close.
He put his arms around me and kissed my head. “Come vuoi tu.”
thirty-four.
Enzo drove me home in a charcoal grey Ferrari and left me in the parking lot. I went right to my car and made it to work just in time.
Pam was business as usual, dozen red roses on her desk notwithstanding.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Morning.”
“What do I have today?”
Pam rattled off a list of meeting and conferences. I texted Daniel.
—What time today?—
—Stuff exploded. Tomorrow ok? Before lunch, 30 min?– —No prob—
“Can you reserve the big conference room at eleven thirty tomorrow?” I asked Pam.
She tapped around. “It’s free. Who are you meeting?”
I looked over her shoulder. The blinking cursor required an answer to who would be in the room with me. “Daniel Brower.”
She tapped it in, her expression sour under her rhinestone-tipped horn rims. “You know, polling this morning shows he’s in the lead for mayor.”
I plucked the card from the roses. “I knew he didn’t need me to win.”
Tonight.
I smiled to myself. Tonight, indeed.
* * *
I tried to keep my mind on my meetings and rows of numbers. I smoothed things over between two accountants on my team while thinking about Antonio’s body. I didn’t know how much longer I could stay at WDE. I hadn’t been fully engaged in my job in months. After spending time with Antonio, the job felt like a blunter, dimmer version of life.
I kept Antonio’s phone in my pocket. When it rang during a meeting, I excused myself and answered in the hall. “Capo?”
“Paulie.”
I might have blushed, as if he’d walked in on my dirty thoughts. “Hi, Paulie.”
“I’m coming to pick you up from work. Is six okay?”
“Sure. I can leave my car in the lot.”
“See you then.”
* * *
Our valet was in the alley behind the building, and Paulie’s Ferrari fit right in. When I came out, he was leaning against it in the shade of a bougainvillea hedge, smoking a cigarette.
“Hey,” I said. “What happened to you?” I pointed to my lower lip, indicating the split on the bottom of his.
“Fell on a guy’s fist.”
“You should watch where you’re walking.”
“He’s taken care of. You can tell your friend the loan’s forgiven.”
“I’ll give him his money. I don’t want to steal it,” I said.
“Don’t worry about it.”
He opened the passenger door, and I got in. He obviously didn’t want to discuss the money. I’d wait, but I had every intention of making sure Katrina’s production was clean.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“San Pedro.”
“We going to the beach?” I asked facetiously. San Pedro did indeed have a beach. It was also home to the loading docks and a notorious organized crime stronghold.
“We have an office down there.”
“Of course you do.”
With that, he drove into the traffic of Wilshire Boulevard.
“Where are you from, Paulie? You sound American.”
“Here. Born and raised. Pure-blooded Angelino dego.”
“Have you always been, um, in the life?”
He flung his hand back, as if indicating everything behind him. “Few generations. I’m as in it as Spin.”
“And you guys partnered? I mean, were you here first? Did he just muscle in or what?”
“He told me you were full of questions.”
“Did he tell you how frustrating it is to not ask any?”
He swung south onto LaCienega. “Doesn’t occur to me. I stay inside the lines. Safer that way. No questions because everyone already knows the answers.”
I didn’t say anything all the way down to the 10 freeway. He went east, and the wind drowned us out.
Paulie started talking as if he’d been working on his answer the whole time. “Spin came here with a bloodline, which is important. Gives him credibility, you know? He came right to me and asked for my permission to do some business. Did it exactly right, too.”
“I can’t imagine him asking permission to do anything.”
“Wasn’t like I couldn’t tell right away he could run a crew. And I’ll tell you, it would have been stupid for me not to partner up.”
“Why?”
“Because I like money, that’s why,” he said.
“He knows how to get it, I presume?”
When he didn’t answer, I thought I’d said too much, pushed him past his comfort level. He rubbed his lip as he changed lanes.
“How did your family get their money?” he asked.
“Generations of stealing followed by a few generations of legalized thievery. Now it’s all compounded interest.”
He laughed. “You’re honest.”
“Sometimes.”
“I’m going to be honest with you then.”
“Oh, this is already so much better than that meeting I cancelled.”
“My partner, he likes you.”
I was going to joke about being relieved but decided against it. This seemed very serious to him, so I shut up.
“He introduced you. That doesn’t happen every day. He’s got girls who are in the life. Like family.” He turned to me briefly then looked back at the road. “Do you know what I mean by that?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, so none of them are anything. But you? He’s lost his shit. He’s pissing himself. After today, shit’s gonna change, and I don’t know if you can handle it.”
“Are you sure he’d want you telling me this?”
“I’m not telling you anything you can use. Reason is, and I’m being honest here, I don’t trust you.”
I watched the train stops in the center of the 110. The road was relatively clear. Paulie kept left, and everyone got out of the way.
“I guess I don’t blame you,” I said.
The paper bag-brown sky of San Pedro crept over the horizon. Giant chair-shaped cranes loomed over the portal to the sea.
“Thanks for helping with my sister that night,” I said.
“No problem.”
“You were very level-headed.”
“Thanks. You too.”
thirty-five.
Paulie pulled into the docking area with a wave. Yellow and black striped barriers went up everywhere, allowing a right, then a left, to an alcove inside a parking lot that housed two trailers and a couple of cars.
“You really know how to schmooze a girl, Paulie.”
He winked at me, and we got out. I followed him to two red shipping containers fifty feet from a sheer concrete drop to the fouled water of the harbor.
“Okay, kid, here’s the deal,” Paulie said. “You’re not going to care for this, but you’re going in there with me. I am not going to hurt you. I’m not going to hurt anyone you care about. I’m telling the truth when I say you need to see something.”
I hadn’t been nervous. I knew Antonio was at the end of this journey, so I’d felt safe. As Paulie spoke, I became unsure and my heart pounded. The container had no windows or doors. Once I went in, I could be easily trapped.
“Let’s go then,” I said.
He grabbed the silver pole and yanked it down with a clack. He swung the door open, and it creaked so loudly I was reminded of a horror movie. When the triangle of light cut the dark tunnel, I had second thoughts.
“I’ll leave the door open a crack,” Paulie said.
“You coming in with me?”
“Right behind you.”
I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t feel threatened, but I didn’t delude myself into thinking Paulie would jump a pack of wolves for me, double kiss or not. I stepped up to the entrance anyway. Maybe curiosity drove me. Maybe a quest for self-destruction. Maybe I wanted to grab a little badass cred and put it in my Prada bag or walk in riskier shoes.
Two steps in, I heard wet, arrhythmic breathing. Then the door closed, and the box went dark.
“You said you were leaving the door open,” I said.
“Oops.”
The light flicked on, drowning the tunnel in flat, industrial illumination. A man was curled against the wall, his ankle chained to a hook on the side of the container. I’d thought I was nervous and scared before. But when the door opened again, I understood what it felt like to jump out of my own skin.
Paulie laughed. He leaned on the wall casually tapping his phone.
Zo stuck his head in. “There you are.”
“Come on in,” Paulie said.
“Hi, Miss Drazen,” Zo said. “How you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
Zo glanced at Paulie then the guy.
“She’s cool,” Paulie said. “Let’s see him.”
Snapping the door shut, Zo crossed the length of the shipping container in about four steps. He kicked the guy to semi-consciousness. “Hey, asshole.”
He picked up the man by the back of his collar. His face was beaten bloody, but I still recognized Scott Mabat. Zo plucked a bottle of soda from his jacket pocket and shook it before tossing it to Paulie. Paulie nodded as he passed me, tapping the bottle cap to his forehead as if tipping his cap to me. It left a dot of condensation. The soda must be ice cold.
“Time to get up, Scotty.” Paulie opened the bottle into Mabat’s face.
“Fuck!” Scott yelped.
“Welcome back.”
“Fuck you!” He spat blood.
“I know it’s been a rough night. So I brought you something pretty to look at.” Paulie yanked Scott’s face around until I was in his line of sight.
Shit. I had to decide what to do quickly, and I decided to do what I always did. Show nothing. Give nothing. Own it.
“Where’s Antonio?” I asked.
“Taking care of business. He’s on his way.”
“Fucking frigid bitch,” Scott said.
“Same wonderful sense of humor, I see.” I said.
Zo laughed long and loud then petered.
Paulie capped the soda bottle and turned to me. “So I have a problem, and I think you can help me solve it. Scotty here is the victim of my partner’s protective streak. I didn’t know he had one. But it’s there.”
Scott coughed and sputtered. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.” He stared at me then coughed again.
“You’re being paid, Mister Mabat. I have the money ready to be wired.” I clipped every word, keeping it business despite the piss I smelled on him. I refused to be sick. I refused to even have a feeling about what was happening. Now wasn’t the time for feelings, only thoughts. Cold ones. I couldn’t get muddied.
“Fuck the money,” Scott said. “I’m getting your friend’s tits.”
“See,” Paulie continued, before I could snap back at Scott. “I have this trust thing with you, like we talked about. So I looked into you, your whole family. You’re clean, but a couple of you got your fingers in shady pies. Your father could teach me something about the business.”
“And you could teach Scott something about the importance of research.”
Paulie’s mouth tightened, and I knew he was holding back a smile. “You hear that, Scotty? You taking notes?”
“I’m gonna put my fist up her little Viet-cong ass,” Scott growled at me.
“Yeah,” Paulie said. “Scotty over here is touching on something I’m getting to.”
“Make her suck my fingers after.”
“Shut up, douche.” Zo slapped Scott, sending a splash of blood to the wall.
I noticed then that there was no blood on the walls or floor. A gruesome observation, but it told me that he’d been beaten and moved there.
“Personally,” Paulie continued, “I like you. I think I mighta fucked you if Spin wasn’t already whipped. But here you are, hanging around the neighborhood, DA’s girlfriend, looking for shit. So I'm nervous. Then there you are, being introduced, and I can’t say shit. Even if it’s common sense, I gotta button it because those are the rules. Everyone’s got rules but the women.”
“I got pulled in. You forget.”
“No. I didn’t forget, and I don’t care what you do on purpose,” Paulie said. “This whole thing with Vito? Spin was already pissed he had a valet thing on the side. A straight job, no less. But then he beat his ass over some bullshit about a girl he didn’t even know. And why? Because he’s pussy whipped. Then Bruno partners up with Vito, and I got two guys Spin’s after, guns blazing. He’s beating on their friends trying to find them. Four days, my partner didn’t make no sense. Four days he forgot the rules, and everyone runs to Donna Maria looking for help. It gets so bad he’s gotta ask permission from another family to do what’s his right to do. Now I’m dragged in, thinking you must have a magic cunt.”
Scott scooted around on his knees. His hands were tied behind his back, and one shoulder looked dislocated. He needed a hospital stay.
“Here’s what I told our boy here,” Paulie continued. “I told him I’m not gonna kill him. I told him you were an accessory to all this. And I told him he couldn’t touch you. You are protected, by us, indefinitely. This will keep my partner happy, and you alive, because this guy’s pissed.” He pushed Scott down with his foot. “Right, you Armenian fuck? You’re pissed, right?”
Scott tried to spit on him, but gravity put the spit back on his face. Paulie leaned closer, in spit range, but Scott didn’t appear to have a drop of saliva left.
“You’re gonna take it out on someone, aren’t you?” Paulie asked.
Scott smiled through a bloody mouth.
“You sold him Katrina,” I whispered.
“Maybe. That’s up to you.”
He stepped back and let Scott and me look at each other. Worry and fear crept through my skin. Resist them though I might, I wasn’t calloused to this. I was a nice girl with a beach house and perfect grades.
“Well then, Mister Patalano, it looks like I’m going to have to figure something out.” I turned to leave, but Paulie held me back with a hand to my shoulder.
“I’m not done.”
“I disagree.”
“You can run to the DA. You can run to daddy. But I know your father better than you do, even if I never met him. Our families aren’t strangers, if you know what I mean. And the DA? Don’t get me started. Your girlfriend has a couple of family here in Orange County. A few friends. She disappears, it’s in the news this week, and next week London Westin’s worn-out pussy’s in the papers.”
He reached in his jacket. He was going for his gun. I think my panic must have been visible then, because he held out his hand to calm me. He slowly pulled the firearm.
“I have a solution for you,” Paulie said. “You want to earn my trust? If you earn that, you and your girlfriend will be under my protection. This guy won’t touch either of you.” He handed me the gun.
Zo spoke up, “Paulie, whoa! The fuck?”
“Shut up, Zo.” It sat in the flat of his hand like an offering. “Take him out. Problem solved.”
Scott laughed, lightly at first. Maybe a smarter person than I am would have deduced another solution. Maybe a more naturally manipulative person would have stalled long enough to change the course of events. But I was empty. I took the gun. It was lighter than I expected. Easier to pick up. Maybe I thought it should weigh some more supernatural amount, equal to the death inside it.
“Take him out, and you’re going to solve all kinds of problems,” Paulie said.
“You’re nuts, you know that?”
“I’m hedging a bet. It’s a million to one you have the spine for it. And I gotta be honest, I want you out of the picture.”
“Paulie, come on,” Zo said.
“Shut the fuck up, Zo.” The man with the bow lips stood close to me, engaging in a staring contest I had no intention of losing.
“She can’t get made, no ways,” Zo pleaded.
I said softly, “This is a very risky proposition.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Shit.” Zo was freaking out. “Pauls, what if she misses and hits me?”
“Pick him up,” Paulie said without releasing me from his gaze. “Let her get a good shot.”
“I’m not killing anyone,” I said.
“My money’s on you not even pulling the trigger.”
“Does Antonio know about this little bet with yourself?”
As if in answer, Paulie’s phone buzzed. He ignored it. “He’s not here right now, is he? He’s busy taking out two perfectly good guys he alienated because of you. I’m here cleaning up this mess he made because of who? Yeah. You.”
Scott had stopped laughing, the blood on his lips crusting over. Paulie squeezed my hand with the gun in it. He looked at it, and I followed his gaze. The gun was hard and black with flat surfaces and squared edges. A cop gun, not a cowboy gun.
I slipped my finger in the metal loop around the trigger, cupping the handle in my palm. “You misread me, Mister Patalano. You think I’m some sheltered little girl who never had to fight for myself. But I’ve spent my whole life fighting for myself. Just not the way you think.”
“Prove it.” His phone buzzed again.
Was it Antonio? Could I stall long enough to get a bye in this little game?
“She can’t earn no bones anyway, Paulie, come on!” Zo was near hysteria.
“Aw, the little girl has a gun?” Scotty said.
I didn’t know what was wrong with him, why he didn’t just roll over or shut up. I didn’t know what had to happen to make him continue taunting his attackers until they killed him, but whatever it was, Scott Mabat was in self-destruct mode.
So I pointed the gun at him. “I could shoot you right now.”
“You don’t have the balls. My dogs will rip that girl in the middle.”
He didn’t threaten me. He’d never threatened me, only Kat. As if he thought that in self-preservation, I’d just let her get pulled into a basement by him and his cronies. And he’d leave me unharmed at the door. Paulie’s word must really mean something.
“I’m going to shoot you, Mister Mabat, unless you allow a prepayment and keep your hands off Katrina,” I said.
“You’re not shooting anyone.”
“Keep making me angry.”
“I bet she tastes like soy sauce when she cries.”
My hand tightened to the point of no return. I pulled the trigger. Tight. Tighter, until the tension in the thing released, and the trigger bounced back.
Nothing happened.
Scott broke into hysteria.
Zo’s eyes went wide. He chanted “Holy shit holy mother of Jesus,” over and over.
I let the gun swing from the trigger loop, finger extended. Paulie looked both impressed and pensive as he held out his hand for it. We didn’t have a chance to exchange a word because the door opened with a creak.
Antonio stood in the rectangle of light. “Paulie.” The word was a statement with a serious undercurrent of darkness, violence, and unspoken threats. “What is she doing here?”
“Nice to see you, too. What took you so long?”
Antonio stepped inside, taking in everything, his hands, knuckles already bloodied and bruised, coiled for something. Zo shut up as if someone had stapled his mouth shut, and Scott, for once, was reduced to silence.
“You said you were in the trailer,” he said.
“I moved him.”
Antonio reached me and took the gun then put his other hand in mine. I realized that with everything we’d done together, we’d never held hands. Not until I was afraid to hurt him or get blood on my cuffs did I feel his fingers laced in mine.
“What the fuck are you doing, Paulie?” Antonio asked.
“Good luck with this one,” he said.
Antonio pulled me through the door, and I followed because I had no choice. Though the container had been lit, the afternoon sunlight made me squint. I held my hand up to block the sun as Antonio pulled me toward his Mas.
He opened the door for me. “Get in, and do not make me put you in.”
I got in. He came around the front of the car. We watched the open door of the red shipping container. No one came out. Antonio backed out of the parking lot in a spray of gravel.
“What the fuck—”
“He picked me up from work,” I said.
“What did he tell you?”
“Nothing. Then we went in there, and Scott looked like that. Did you do that to him?”
“I didn’t want you to see that. It was supposed to be that I finished getting his guys to understand my position, then we worked on Scott. Then you gave him his money back, and you were done.”
“Well, I did see it. You hurt him. One of his eyes was sealed shut.”
“I woulda done worse if Zo hadn’t pulled me off him.” Antonio drove in a rage, pulling onto the freeway as if he wanted the car to eat it. “He just wouldn’t stop fucking talking. This is what I was telling you. This is who I am. This is what you do to me. And Paulie? He doesn’t trust you. He showed you so you’d run away from me, right?”
“He wanted me to shoot Mabat in exchange for Katrina’s immunity.”
“And what happened when you wouldn’t?” he asked.
“I did.”
“You what?”
“I pulled the trigger.”
I saw that he was confused. He was probably thinking: Had Scott been quiet when he got there? Did he look dead? Who was the woman sitting next to him? Was there a whole new set of problems to solve?
“You think you’re the only one, Antonio. You think you’re the only one with a little murder in him,” I said. “A little temper? Well, I knew there were no bullets in the gun, because it was so light. I knew it would just click, but I was sorry it was empty. I wanted to spray his brains all over the wall. He’s a waste of a man.”
Antonio pulled the wheel hard right at eighty miles an hour and screeched to a stop at the shoulder. If that was what it was to be mercurial and impulsive, I understood the appeal. Every moment felt like living at the height of awareness, every sense sharpened to a fine edge.
“God help me,” he said. “I’ve ruined you.”
I touched his arm, but he pulled away.
