Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
His hand reaches out and grabs my wrist. I still have the rag between my fingers.
He pulls down his mask. “You saved me. What’s your name?”
“E-E-Elizabeth,” I stammer out.
“You saved me,” he repeats. “I’m gonna repay this. You can have a favor—anything you want.”
“Okay.” Stop me from hearing Gerry’s last gasp.
“Tell him. He’ll deliver on my word.” Arturo nods toward a thick-necked, dark-browed guard who is hovering across from me.
“Okay.” Erase this day from my memory.
“No time limit,” Arturo says.
“Okay.” Don’t come here again.
The guard reaches over and shoves the mask back on Arturo’s mouth.
“He means it,” the guard says.
“Okay,” I answer because I don’t know what it all means and nor do I care. My mind is stuck on the knife slicing through the air, the gurgling sound as Gerry gasped for air, the ease with which the blood came off the floor.
What does a boon from Arturo matter? He can’t bring Gerry back to life.
21
Leka
Arturo never fulfills the favor he owes to Bitsy. He dies at the hospital from poisoning. In punishment for allowing harm to come to the head of this family, Stinky Steve is killed. He’s not directly responsible, but someone has to be held up as an example.
“This is why it’s never good to be in charge,” Beefer tells me as we burn what’s left of Stinky Steve.
Arturo’s men, led by a scary man called Sterno, cut Steve up, kept the heart, and left the rest of the parts for us to dispose of. I think we’re supposed to be shocked and awed, but Stinky Steve hasn’t done anything but pork his stable and drink his bourbon for the last ten years. Beefer’s really been running this group. Him and Mary…and me.
“They sending us a new boss?” I ask.
“Don’t know. Cesaro’s coming down, though, to check things out.”
“When?” I want to make sure that Bitsy’s not around.
“Probably in a month. He’s shoring up his position.”
Meaning, he’s busy killing anyone who might pose a threat. When he comes down, he’ll expect a loyalty pledge. I didn’t like Arturo, but I understood him. If you were good to him, he’d be good to you. As long as we were pulling our weight down here, he didn’t care who was in charge. Cesaro is a puzzle for me. I don’t know what motivates him, so I don’t know exactly what he’ll expect us to do to prove ourselves. The night out at the club rises to the top of my memory.
“You should send Camella away,” I suggest.
Beefer’s oldest daughter, Camella, started working at Marjory’s a couple of months ago. She’s pretty in an ordinary way, but she has a freshness that would appeal to Cesaro.
“Eh, we’ve got plenty of women to keep Cesaro occupied. Besides, Mary will be riding his dick most of the time anyway.” Beefer’s still bitter about that.
Someday he’s going to appreciate that he got out of Mary’s clutches, but it’s not today, I guess. I swallow a sigh. I don’t know why men are so caught up in Mary or any other woman just because she’s good in the sack. Mary’s got no loyalty. She doesn’t care for anyone but herself and all she wants is power. She’s dangerous and I wouldn’t turn my back on her, let alone allow her to have her mouth around my dick.
“Still, just to be on the safe side, it wouldn’t hurt. You could send her to some spa or some shit like that.”
“You sending Bitsy away?” Beefer asks.
“She’s working over at the Shake Shoppe now,” I remind him. After the Arturo incident, Bitsy and I came to an unspoken agreement that she’d be better off far away from Marjory’s.
“Cammie’s trying to save money for a girls’ vacation to Cancún. Boss’s crew always tips good. She’d give me the silent treatment for a month if I made her miss out.”
“I’ll float her a loan,” I offer. I don’t like our girls being here when Cesaro’s around. There’s something about that snake that makes my skin crawl. I trust my gut. It’s always served me right.
Beefer hits me on the back. “It’s not like I can’t swing it, kid. Cammie’s got to learn some responsibility. It’ll be all right. Trust me, Cesaro’s not going to be interested in my daughter.”
He’s wrong, but I’m not gonna convince him of that today.
* * *
“You okay?” I ask Bitsy, who is fiddling with a tube of lip balm.
She’s been quiet since the Arturo thing. I know it’s scarred her in some way, but she won’t talk about it. Last Friday was the dance. She skipped it. The blue dress got blood stains all over it and she refused to go shopping for another outfit. I didn’t push her because, well, shit, I wasn’t thrilled about her going to the damn dance either.
“I was just thinking about my science test tomorrow,” she says.