Up in Smoke (King #8)

“You remind me of someone,” I say to the messy-haired man standing in the kitchen. Smoke had introduced him as Kevin before taking off to god only knows where. Maybe he’s creating another wooden bust of me to throw off the roof when I’m long gone.

“Actually, they call me Nine now,” he corrects after Smoke’s long gone. He smiles proudly. “And let me guess, I remind you of someone…from your dreams?” He wags his eyebrows suggestively.

Nine opens then slams every cabinet and drawer in the small kitchen in search of whatever it is he’s looking for to make his ‘world famous pasta sauce’. His words, not mine.

“Not quite,” I say.

Nine is big but not Smoke big. He’s leaner than Smoke, and a few inches shorter. He’s also about a decade or so younger from my guess, which makes him around my age.

There’s a newer-looking tattoo on the side of his neck depicting a bleeding heart with a knife stabbed through it. It’s gruesome but skillfully done, whoever created it is a true artist.

Nine’s smile is lopsided. His eyes bright. His eyelids naturally hooded. He’s chain-smoking cigarettes as he barrels his way through the kitchen as gracefully as one-footed duck.

It hits me who he reminds me of.

“I was thinking that you remind me of a friend of mine actually. His name was…is…Duke. His name is Duke.”

Nine puts out his cigarette under the tap and plucks a joint from behind his ear. “Duke? Is there a duchess?”

I smile because I can’t not smile at Nine. He’s attractive and witty and, unlike some people, warm. “Why Nine?” I ask.

He thinks for a few beats. “Because I once took out an entire gang with only a nine millimeter?”

I give him the universal look for ‘come on’, cocking my head and crossing my arms.

“I’m like a cat, and I’ve got nine lives?” He tries again.

I shake my head. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“The truth is…” he leans in and whispers. “I can’t tell you the truth. If I tell ya, then I’ll have to kill ya.”

I wince.

“Fuck. Sorry about that. Wasn’t thinking. I’m kinda new to all this,” he apologizes. “I’m usually the tech guy, at least up until now, that is. I don’t know the whole story here, but from the look on your face, I realize that a happy ending may not be in the future.”

I’m normally the tech guy…

“No, but it’s alright,” I say. “In a way, it’s no one’s fault but my own.” I pause, an idea forming. “I know how you can make it up to me, though.”

“Do I want to know? Because I don’t know if you’ve seen Smoke,” Nine points a knife to the front door. “He might be a big scary as fuck dude, but what he’ll do to me is probably nothing compared to what I’ll have waiting for me back home if I let this all go to motherfucking shit. My brother and the guys he runs with would all take turns killing me. And then?” he shakes his head and shivers. He lowers his voice to a whisper. “And then they’d hand me over to the scariest one of them all…”

“Who?” I ask curiously,

“My sister in law,” Nine says, taking a drag from the joint and handing it out to me. I shake my head, needing to stay sharp if I’m going to get my way.

“It’s nothing big. Nothing that would bring down the wrath of those in charge. I just need a favor,” I raise my shoulders to my neck and look up at Nine with an exaggerated tight smile. I have to go about this carefully, make him think the outcome is his idea.

Nine starts chopping onions. A ton of them. Most of them don’t stay on the cutting board. Half of them fall to the floor and the other half fly from the knife as he chops with the joint dangling from his lips.

“I’m not taking the bomb off your leg,” he says without looking up from his onions. “I feel like that would be the beginning of the end. For both of us.”

“No, I mean, yeah, that would be swell, but that’s not what I want.”

He puts down the knife and leans forward. “Spill it.”

“I want to use your laptop,” I blurt, balling my fists and pressing them to my chin, looking up at him over my knuckles.

Nine rolls his eyes, continuing his chopping.

“Just for a few minutes!” I add.

“What makes you think I have a laptop with me? Or that I’d let you use it?” He swipes the chopped onions into the pan on the stove which sizzles. He brings the cutting board back to the island and begins on the mushrooms.

“Nine, you said you’re a tech guy.” I raise my hands to my chest. “Well, I’m a tech guy, too. And tech geeks like us don’t go anywhere without their laptops. Not if they can help it.”

Nine adds the mushrooms to the pan and gives them a stir. He grins and surrenders with a sigh, raising his hands in the air. “Okay, you got me. It’s in the van, but I can’t let you use it. Smoke would strangle me and that, my dear, is not my idea of a good time unless there’s a hot chick connected to the hands wrapped around my neck.”

“Can I ask you something?” I shove my laptop question to the side on a temporary hold.

“Shoot. But I don’t guarantee I can answer it,” Nine says.

“Why are you so loyal to him? To Smoke?”

“That’s easy. He saved my brother’s life,” Nine sucks off the tomato juice dripping down his hand.

“He did?” I’m taken aback. Way back. It’s the last thing I ever expected him to say.

“He sure as fuck did. He stopped some motherfucker from taking Preppy out in the hospital. I would never have met my brother if it weren’t for Smoke. Didn’t find him until recently. Wouldn’t have my nieces now and would never have met my nephew or my sister-in-law, who I fucking love, despite my earlier comment. Although, she can be scary as shit when it comes to protecting my brother and those kids. Even me. So, you see, I owe Smoke a lot more than babysitting you. That’s why as much as I’d like to help you, my hands are tied.”

“He was paid to rescue your brother?”

Nine shakes his head. “Nope. He was there. Saw Preppy was in trouble. Put the breaks on the whole thing.”

“Really,” I say, drawing out the word. “Smoke has friends? Well, I’ve met Rage and Zelda, but I kind of imagined them to be it.”

“I probably shouldn’t be answering that. Or anything.”

“How does answering that affect me or you watching me in any way? How can I use that against Smoke or better yet how can I possibly use that information to escape?” I raise my leg and set my foot on the counter, pointing to my ankle. “I’ve got a bomb on my leg. Remember?”

Nine sighs. “Fine. Yes, Smoke has friends. Or at least, he has people in his corner. That’s what I get when people talk about him anyway. He’s a legend over in Logan’s Beach. The people I know are loyal to him because over the years he’s been loyal to them. But he’s a loner. That’s pretty much all I know.”

I rest my chin on my fist. “Interesting. He makes it seem like he puts mountains between him and the rest of the world.”

Nine laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the counter. “He does. The thing is, my people, our mutual friends? They’re really fucking good climbers.”