“You knew she was coming down here,” Jonny said.
“She’s just as fuckin’ stubborn as you.”
Yeah, even Eddie saw it. Cheryl would never listen to reason or back down, and that’s why he’d sent her off in Miami.
Eddie stood behind Alejandro. “He was more than happy to get a little revenge.”
“I never pulled a trigger before.” Alejandro fished a pack of Marlboros out of his pocket. “I just carried a piece for show.” His hands shook so violently he had trouble putting the cigarette to his lips and lighting it.
“There’s a big difference between flashing it and using it,” Jonny muttered, remembering the day he’d pointed a gun at his father.
Alejandro drew in a deep drag of smoke. “That fucker deserved what he got.”
“Our boy finally got his dick wet.” Eddie clapped his hand over Alejandro’s shoulder.
“The bastard never saw it coming. He tried to pull on me, but I beat him to it.” Alejandro nodded to Cheryl. “Your girl being here was a big help.”
“It was a worthy cause.” Cheryl smirked.
“I told you she had some street in her,” Eddie added.
“Too bad Frank didn’t get some shots off,” Jonny snapped. “Make it really exciting, huh?”
They exchanged glances until Eddie nabbed one of Alejandro’s cigarettes and lit up. “Now we gotta concentrate on the cleanup. Or did you think you could come in here, shooting it up like a fuckin’ video game?”
“What about the river?” Alejandro suggested around a cloud of smoke.
“Amateur,” Eddie mumbled. “The tide’s way too low on this side. You dump him in there, and he’ll pop up like yesterday’s garbage.”
Alejandro’s slim frame shrank deeper into the chair as Eddie’s bulk loomed over him. “Relax kid.” Eddie pounded him on the back. “I’m just fuckin' with you. Got it all taken care of.”
He squinted through the smoke at Jonny. “I didn’t realize you and Carlos got so many Cubans work up here.” Eddie crossed the room to Frank’s private stash. “Very loyal people,” he said over his shoulder. “They were more than happy to lend a hand with the cleanup after I told them what happened to you and Carlos.”
He spun around, holding up four shot glasses and a bottle of Jack. “I think it’s only fitting we toast Frank with his favorite drink.” Eddie filled the glasses.
“To freedom,” Eddie toasted.
Cheryl used the same word.
Freedom.
But Jonny didn’t feel free. His guts were twisted, and his head felt about to explode.
They raised their glasses and shot the whiskey, but he pushed his aside and stepped away from the desk. “I’m out.”
“What’s with you?” Eddie asked.
“Nothing,” Jonny mumbled.
“Are you okay?” Cheryl came to his side, and when she put her arm around his waist, he pulled away.
Eddie righted the toppled chair and motioned toward Alejandro. “I got him on an early morning flight back to Miami.”
“I’ll take him to the penthouse,” Jonny said.
Eddie shifted a glance between him and Cheryl.
“Jonny?” She reached for him.
“Don’t.” He stepped away from her then swiped the half-empty bottle of Jack off the desk. He gulped a healthy swig, then waved it at Eddie. “Yeah, I plan on getting good and drunk.”
Eddie shrugged. “I’ll wait for the cleanup committee.”
He knew Cheryl would be safe with Eddie. Safer than being with him right now, ‘cause he couldn’t control the mess clawing through him. As close as they were, Eddie could never understand his jumbled emotions. He trailed behind Alejandro as they walked in silence down the deserted pier. The sharp stench of brackish water and the smoke from Alejandro’s cigarette merged in a smoldering, salty mix.
He remembered the first time he’d come to Frank’s office, young, scared, and begging for help. Wanting revenge for his mother’s death. That day changed his life. It left a gaping hole where he stored his emotions. He didn’t have the ability to love Cheryl the way she deserved. Telling himself he’d let her go to protect her from his life was easier than admitting the truth. It wasn’t his life that was too dangerous, it was him, and because of that, he'd left the best thing in his life standing in that same office.
He hit the bottle again, but it wasn’t helping. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tried to feel something about Frank’s death—satisfaction, redemption. But there was nothing, but an empty numbness. All the anger and rage drained out of him, leaving just blood and flesh stretched over a lifeless core.
When they reached the end of the pier, he dug into his pocket and tossed Alejandro the keys to the Escalade. “You drive.”
“Yeah?”
He lifted the whiskey bottle dangling from his fingertips. “I’ll have this finished off before we hit the bridge.” Anxiety and a touch of judgement filled Alejandro's eyes. The judgement pissed Jonny off. “What?”
“A few weeks ago you were telling me to dial it down.” Alejandro motioned to the bottle. “And now . . .”
“Maybe I was wrong.” He raised the bottle in a toast. “Maybe getting fucked up is the way to deal with shit.”
Chapter 38
Eddie wanted Cheryl to stay at his penthouse, but the possibility of running into Jonny would’ve unraveled her. Then Eddie insisted that he loan her some money, but she turned that down too. She’d understood his concern, but she needed a clean break.
Now, a week later she was determined to stand on her own no matter what, but it pained her to return to a place that held nothing but bad memories. Two doors away from the room she shared with Nicky at the Oasis and working for Sal. It wasn’t her first choice, but under the circumstances, it was all she could afford, and the cheap rent would allow her to save her money. Of course, Sal hadn’t forgotten the three months back rent she and Nicky ditched, but she knew how to work Sal’s gruff exterior.
“I’ll make it up to you,” she wheedled. “I’ll work extra shifts.”
Sal shuffled through the mountain of papers covering his desk.
“I’ll clean up around here too,” Cheryl bargained, then motioned around the cluttered office.
“No salary, just tips.” Sal lit a new cigarette from the tip of the old one.
“Half salary till the back rents paid, and I get to keep my tips.” She placed her hands on the battered wooden desk.
“I’ve always been a sucker for beautiful women.” Sal shrugged. “How do you think I got three ex-wives?”
With negotiations done, she settled into her room over the Oasis. She’d rifled through the one garbage bag Sal saved but never found the tampon box with her money.
She sat on the bed and surveyed her surroundings. Same scarred wooden furniture over a threadbare rug in a small dingy room with an even smaller bathroom and kitchenette area. Although her time with Jonny was short, his luxurious lifestyle had spoiled her and made her see another side of life. But thinking about the past only brought pain, a tangible pain stabbing at her and stealing the air from her lungs with such force she struggled to breathe.
The blank expression in Jonny’s eyes when he left Frank’s office. Like she didn’t exist. She’d wanted to prove her resilience and desire to help him with Frank, but that freaked him out even more.
The room spun when she stood, so she leaned on the dresser for support. For one terrible moment, she feared she might vomit. She drew in a steady, deep breath as the familiar wave of nausea overwhelmed her, followed by a cold sweat. Slow. In and out, try to control it.
She stared into the mirror over the dresser at her pale, washed-out image searching for answers, but only seeing fear. Old fears of becoming a woman with no self-control.
A woman ruled by desires who did whatever felt good at the moment without worrying about the consequences. A woman like her mother. But drugs and alcohol weren’t her downfall. She’d been stone cold sober, and on the run from Frank when Jonny’s strong body and soothing words made their actions primal, instinctive, beautiful and unprotected.
After a nerve-wracking trip to the drug store, she’d sat alone in her bathroom with a blue dot, a blue strip, and clearest of all, the word pregnant printed across the plastic applicator. No doubts. She was having Jonny’s baby.
The sound of footsteps down the hall set her heart off again. Paranoia over Frank’s death settled in her gut and made her suspicious of every sound or person who came within five feet of her. Freedom apparently came with a price. The long, heavy stride came closer, then stopped two seconds before the wooden door vibrated under the persistent knock.
“C’mon Cheryl, I know you’re in there.”
She sucked in another deep breath, unlocked the three security locks, and opened the door.
Eddie stepped through the door and eyeballed the locks. “Nice.” The sarcastic lilt followed him into the apartment.
She closed the door, and they stared at each other. She’d held off this inevitable visit with texts and phone calls, but she still wasn’t ready for his questions, and she certainly didn’t have the answers he wanted. Plus, she had to act normal and keep the biggest secret of her life.
His muscled frame crowded the tiny room. He did a half turn, which allowed him to view the entire apartment. “This place is a fuckin’ dump.”
His brutal honesty made him honorable, but very annoying.
“It’s not so bad, and Sal gave me a good deal.”
“Good deal? He oughta let you stay in this rathole for free.”
Eddie nailed her with a long examining gaze like he could see the baby growing inside her. She placed her hands on her still-flat abdomen, then felt foolish.
“Why are you here?” Her voice sounded small and strained.
“I came to check on you.”
“For Jonny?” She didn’t know what she hoped his response would be.
“No, can’t a friend check on a friend?”
“Of course.” Disappointment overwhelmed her as she motioned to the only chair in the room, then perched on the edge of the bed.
“Sal working you too hard?” Again, his blue eyes pierced through her. “You look like shit.”
“Just a little stomach thing.” The lie made her heart beat faster as a hot flash surrounded her neck.
“I’m just sayin’ . . .” Eddie surveyed the room again and frowned. “You could’ve had a condo overlooking the river, cash in the bank, but what do you do?”
“What any self-respecting woman would do. Throw it back in his face.”
An uncomfortable silence followed. She wanted so badly to blurt her condition and be comforted, but this was one secret she had to keep. The last thing she wanted was Jonny coming back to her out of obligation, or worse, pity.
“He’s been all fucked up since you left.”
“I didn’t leave, he threw me out, remember?” Her anger bubbled just below the surface. “Then I tried at the warehouse to make him see that he needed me, that I’m tough, and that I can take care of myself.”
“That screwed with him even more.”
“I’m done.” Easy to say the words, hard to believe them. The familiar twinge clutched her heart. The image of Jonny hurting caused her physical pain. “He’s not my problem anymore.”
“He knows he can’t control you, and he knows how strong you are.” Eddie scrubbed his hand over his jaw. “The same things he hates are the things he lov—”
“No, don’t.” She couldn’t bear to hear about feelings that no longer had any meaning. If he’d loved her as he said in Miami, he wouldn’t have left her.
“You’re both stubborn as fuck,” Eddie mumbled.
“I’ve got to get ready for work.” She stood, hoping he would take the hint.
The room shifted, and she swallowed hard against the simmering nausea.
Eddie moved to her side. “Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to Sal? Let you rest a little.”
“I’m fine.” It was only a matter of minutes before she would be hurling up her lunch. “You should go.”
Eddie grabbed her hand and pressed a wad of bills into her palm. She pulled back, but he closed her fist over the money.
“For fuck’s sake, just take it.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll be back next week. You need something before then, call me.”
She mumbled her thanks, embarrassed she needed the money, yet happy to have it for her slowly growing baby fund.
Eddie began to say something else, but she quickly closed the door, threw the locks, and bolted for the bathroom.
Ten minutes later she sat on the bathroom floor with her back against the cool porcelain tub, her elbows resting on her knees, her hands holding her head. Her barfing sessions were violent but quick, yet they left her washed-out and drained.
She struggled to a standing position, splashed cold water on her face, and reminded herself that this would be a temporary condition. Although the baby growing inside her and the reality of raising it alone was permanent. Along with the loneliness of never having her baby’s father. The only man she would ever love.
Chapter 39
Eddie appeared at Jonny’s side with an expression way too serious for the grand opening of Beyond Paradise.
“Smile, this is our big night.” Jonny held up his shot glass of tequila, and the blonde VIP hostess giggled, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and jerked her closer. “Why don’t you do a shot with me, ahh . . .?” He paused, forgetting her name, and she giggled again.
“Samantha’s working, Jonny.” Eddie leaned in and whispered something in the girl’s ear.
She scurried off to the bar, and Jonny craned his neck as she weaved around the crowd.
“When’d you hire her?” he asked.
“Last week. You were sitting right next to me.”
Jonny tilted his head, pissed at the sarcastic edge to Eddie’s voice.
“You were already three shots in,” Eddie added.
He threw him a glaring challenge. “Counting my drinks now?”
Eddie blew out a breath and mumbled something too low to be heard over the music.
Samantha walked from the bar and avoided them. “What the hell did you say to her?”
“I told her she had a good chance of making a thousand bucks tonight unless she gets fired for fooling around with one of the owners.”
“Since when did you become such a hard ass?”
“Since you stopped.” Eddie waited a beat. “Josh Turner wants you to—”
“Josh Turner’s an asshole,” Jonny said low enough to be covered by the pounding music, but loud enough for Eddie to hear him.
“You might want to keep that to yourself since he’s booked five VIP booths and brought half of Hollywood with him.”
“He keeps calling me ‘pal.’ It’s fuckin’ obnoxious.” He waved his empty glass, lost his balance, and swayed against the railing, making the tiny gold lights imbedded in the metal shimmer against the brass.
Eddie clasped his shoulder and spun him around, giving them an aerial view of the club. “We got sixty thousand square feet of people dying to throw us their money. You got Tiesto spinning for seventy-five K in the DJ booth. The bouncers are making it harder than fuck to get in, and yet”—Eddie waved his hand at the two tiers below them— “the place is packed.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
“Good, then let the girls do their job, stop acting like a punk, and put on your party face.” Eddie pushed off the railing and pointed to his glass. “And slow down
with the booze. You’re drinking up all the profits.”
“Hey, guys, this place is great.” Josh Turner ambled over, all swagger and fake charm.
He’d made a name for himself with his pretty-boy looks and a string of second-rate action/adventure flicks he felt entitled him to be obnoxious and condescending. The old joke about looking taller onscreen applied to Turner, and he guessed his muscles, and his receding hairline wasn’t the only thing digitally enhanced.
“Glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Eddie kept his voice cordial.
“My pal here is treating me good.” He tugged Jonny around the shoulders in a half-hug, and the smell of gin and sweet cologne made his stomach flip end over end. “Some nice pieces of ass up here, too.”
Eddie flashed Jonny a quick glance that said keep it together, and Jonny sucked in a sharp breath.
“I bet you got them coming and going,” Turner yelled in Jonny’s direction.
“What else can we get you, Josh?” Eddie kept his voice lazy and relaxed, but Jonny saw the telltale clench of his jaw. “Another bottle of . . .”
“We’re good.” Turner leaned into Jonny, all confidential. “Listen, pal, my next movie is about the mob, and you growing up on the streets, maybe you could help me with the lingo and life in the ‘hood.’” He paused for a buddy-buddy wink. “Or how it feels to whack somebody.”
Jonny narrowed his eyes, and his lips twitched.
Eddie moved to Josh’s other side. “Why don’t I show you around, give you a behind-the-scenes tour.”
“Or . . . why don’t you get me and my friends some hookers for the night?” Turner challenged while making a frat boy gesture with his hand.
Eddie laughed without humor, as the heat of the liquor burned through Jonny’s veins. Josh shoved his shoulder again. “I bet my pal here could set us up with some real hot babes who like to party.”
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