Page 37 of Great White
I open my hand, blood dripping all over the flesh of the green and yellow fruit.
“Give it here.” Tweety reaches for me, and I stretch my arm over the bar top. He wraps my palm in a bar towel to stop the bleeding. He doesn’t say another word. He just looks at me with a questioning expression and an overarched eyebrow.
Dios mio is right.
* * *
I dragmyself through the door at three a.m.
Coming home this late is nothing unusual, but tonight seemed to be extra taxing. More undercovers prowled around the club floor, and more demands from our new business associate, Mr. Wang, poured in. Stefania left me a care package to deliver to him. He is putting some serious pressure on our business. He’s selling faster than we can produce, and I foresee a trip to Mexico in the near future.
Then, there’s Tate.
I can’t get the image of him all dressed up out of my head. He should be the least of my problems, like not even a blip on my radar, but fuck, it is irking the hell out of me knowing he’s with Steph tonight. And she knows it, too. It’s exactly what she wants. She’s doing it on purpose. I have seen her prowl around with plenty of men, but she has taken a special liking to Tate.
I guess it’s not hard to do if you like the tall, smooth-talking, gorgeous type. Luckily, I don’t
Steph can have him.
After changing into a pair of shorts and beat-up T-shirt, I pop in a microwave meal and stare aimlessly as the plastic plate spins around. I don’t even know why I’m heating it up. I’m not hungry. I’m just going through the motions.
I plop the pathetic meal down onto my kitchen table. My place is nice enough. Plenty of space for just one person with a nice view of the desert and El Paso’s lights in the distance. Nothing extravagant like Stefania’s, but then again, I’m not flashy like her. And as I look around the room decorated with a modern, southwestern style, I realize much more clearly that I have set myself up to be alone. Before tonight, that never seemed to bother me. But right now, the cold blackness in my chest isn’t the comfort it usually is.
I push the food away and stare out at the lights of El Paso twinkling like little stars right here on Earth. Cities always do look more beautiful from afar.
Sort of like relationships. In my case, anyway.
I call it a night. Sleep and a lot of it is definitely what I need. I toss the untouched food into the garbage.
Before I reach my bedroom, there is a soft knock on the door. I check the peephole, but no one is there. Something tells me to reach for my gun stashed in the entryway table. I’m not fast enough, though, because just as I open the drawer, my front door bursts open.
Two men rush in, overpowering me. I try to fight back, getting in a punch here and a kick there, but they’re bigger and stronger and had the element of surprise on their side.
I try to scream, but they gag me, dragging me into the darkness of my bedroom.
I still fight, flinging my feet at them any chance I get. Before I know it, I’m zip-tied to my own headboard, the two strangers gazing down at me. I can’t calm down. My heart and my pulse are sprinting a marathon.
Calm down, calm down, calm down,I chant to myself. I can’t lose my head, or else I’ll lose my life.
I suck in air through my nose as I bite on the gag. It tastes like sweat.
“Chill out, sweetheart.” One of them pops open a switchblade and holds the point to my neck.
I growl at him.
They both laugh.
“Elle es luchadora.” They find my resistance humorous.She’s feisty.
“We have a message for your boss,Tiburona.” I can barely see him in the darkness, but I can feel the point of the blade sliding over my bare thigh. “See, we know who you are.” He continues to drag the tip as he speaks. “The shark that circles the last living Deltoro.” He pokes the knife into the underside of my arm until he draws blood. I try not to groan from the pain. “Raffi knows about the little affair Marco and Stefania are having. He also knows you killed Santo. You’re good, pequeno. Very thorough.” He sounds pleased. “Our message is this. If you want to live and Stefania to live, and your little business to survive, you’ll give Raffi your new buyer. An even trade he thinks. He’ll even overlook this little infatuation his son has. He knows it’ll pass.” The blade swipes over my neck as if slicing it. Beads of sweat erupt on my forehead. “So do we have a deal?”
I stare into the darkness and nod my head. What else can I do?
“Bueno. I’ll deliver the good news.” The man sighs obscenely. “It really is a shame I’m only delivering a message and not an execution. Raffi told me hands off. You’re not to be touched. But if that order is ever turned over,Tiburona. I’ll be back,” he hisses, and I feel the spit of his mouth spray over my cheek. I nearly vomit. “La belleza,” he mutters dementedly.
Then, everything goes black.
* * *
