“Till tomorrow. And you?”
“Not sure. Waiting on instructions from my boss,” he said, his Long Island accent broadcasting loud and clear from his vocal cords despite the pounding bass in the club.
“Your boss. You sound like a gangster,” I teased, deepening my voice.
“I don’t like those terms,” he responded, looking down momentarily into his glass. “I prefer ‘businessman.’ I ain’t into breakin’ kneecaps ’n stuff. Unless absolutely necessary.”
“Okay, okay. I didn’t know you were dangerous like that, Martino.”
“Does that bother you? That I might be a little dangerous?” he asked sincerely.
“Ooooh, no. I like danger. Like it a lot,” I said with a big grin. “Makes things more interesting. Why didn’t you tell me before?” I reached out and caressed his shoulder and bicep in a reassuring way. Also, I just wanted to touch him and feel his sculpted arms. So sue me.
“Back home I gotta be more discreet. Y’know, my people wouldn’t appreciate my ...”
“Lifestyle?” I said, completing his thought for him. I’d heard the term enough times from my pops.
“Yeah. Not so understanding. And I like livin’, y’know?” he admitted, with a little bit of nervous laughter escaping. It felt like I was his priest or something.
“Well, relax, ‘cause I ain’t tellin’no one. Lips sealed’n all,” I commented, being a bit suggestive at the end.
“Good,” he said with a grin of his own. “Where are you staying?”
“Wherever I choose to lay my head,” I answered, knowing it couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Oh, because I was—” Martino stopped mid-sentence.
“What’s wrong?”
“Those two men over there...”
“Where?” I followed his gaze and nearly panicked when I realized that he was referring to Alejandro’s men.
“The two Mexicans. In the suits.”
“Oh... what about them?” Shit. I’d thought I was heading at least toward a blow job in the bathroom with Martino, but now their presence was cramping my style.
“They must be following me.”
“You?” I asked, stunned. “Why?”
“Things. Stuff with their boss. They must be onto me ... somehow,” he said, panic showing for the first time. “Look, I gotta get outta here before they find me. Now.”
His sense of urgency swept over me. It made my hands tremble ever so slightly, and I almost dropped my glass.
“Let me help you,” I said, my mind racing. What the hell had I stumbled into? I needed to know more. I had a feeling that my life depended on it.
Orlando
41
It had been seventy-two hours since Miguel’s death, and there was no doubt in my mind that it was just a matter of time before all hell broke loose. From what I could see when my newly assigned driver and bodyguard turned into the garage at Uncle Lou’s auto repair shop, that time was now. To make matters worse, I’d just received a blocked call from Ruby, during which she proceeded to drop a bomb on my head.
“Orlando, did you hear me?” Ruby asked, her accent heavier than ever.
“Yeah, I heard you,” I said, though her words went in one ear and out the other. I was too preoccupied with the scene of carnage before me as I got out of the car.
“What happened?” I yelled.
“Motherfuckers sprayed us, O!” Junior yelled, his T-shirt smeared in crimson as he and Sihad carried the still body from his bullet-riddled and smoking Trans Am.
“Orlando... I’m pregnant,” Ruby repeated again. This time I heard her. The noise and commotion continued around me, but I tuned it out. Ruby’s words hit me like a left hook.
I turned away from my brother. “Are you sure?”
“Orlando! What are you doing?” Junior yelled, bringing my attention back to the situation at hand.