Mine

by Mary Calmes

  “I agree. Nice suit,” I added; the Hugo Boss looked good on him.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Hostile.”

  As the car pulled away from the curb, he sighed deeply. The rain, which had been a steady drizzle all night and into the early morning, decided to become a monsoon.

  “So Adrian’s dead,” he said, turning to me.

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  “I have a new boss, Rigel. Seems okay.”

  I nodded.

  “I told him what I wanted for you, that I wanted you out, and he asked me a lot of questions that I didn’t understand.”

  “Like what?”

  He turned from looking at the rain to looking at me, and I was struck, as I always was, by how handsome, and not, the man was.

  Gabriel had light-brown hair, pale-blue eyes, blunt features, a long straight nose, and thin lips. His hair fell forward across his forehead and slipped down the back of his nape in thick waves. He looked like everybody; there was nothing about him that made the face memorable—until he smiled. And then you saw the glint in his eyes, the curl of his lip, and saw that he was handsome. Still not traffic-stopping, still not able to inspire lust, but his height, six two, and his build, lean and muscular, made him above average. Because he was the guy who had made it rain for me, had given me a hand up when there was no one else, I had always seen him with my rose-colored glasses on.

  “Rigel asked a lot of questions about the kind of man you were, what your temper was like, how long it took you to get mad and how many people you’d killed.”

  “And?” I asked him.

  “I told him the truth, and he was thrilled. Seems a guy with no sins and no skeletons in the closet is just what he’s looking for. I told him you wanted your own restaurant, and he said that Kady’s is yours to do with as you see fit; make it whatever the hell kind of restaurant you want.”

  I couldn’t breathe. “And the catch?”

  “The catch is you’re in, and really, you’re in whether you wanna be or not, so I would take the damn restaurant and set up your life and be the guy Rigel Masada wants you to be.”

  But what did I want?

  “This guy I met in Vegas, he said that because of Conrad, I had choices.”

  He shook his head. “I told Rigel about Conrad. He told me he doesn’t care. He’s not afraid of one man; he has an entire family backing him. You’ll like him. He’s in Miami now. When he gets back, he wants to meet you, and Landry.”

  “You like him?”

  “He’s not erratic. He doesn’t want to do everything, he just wants to concentrate on what makes him money. And he was merciless with Kady. I liked that.”

  I nodded.

  “He wants you to be the guy the cops talk to, the guy everyone talks to. It can’t be me; I’ve done too much, am way too dirty—but you, you’re squeaky clean.”

  “I’m a runner,” I disagreed with a laugh. “I’m not that clean.”

  “Oh come on, you don’t even own a gun.”

  I held his gaze.

  “From where?”

  “Connie.”

  He nodded. “That makes sense. Give it back to him, all right? You’ll have muscle from now on. Gino and Pavel will—”

  I shook my head. “I’ll ask Conrad.”

  “You can’t afford to pay him day in and day out.”

  I shrugged. “I think I can, and he likes the idea of the restaurant too.”

  He exhaled sharply. “You’re gonna be in charge of the house, the runners. It’s your place now, Trev, you get that, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I mean, I’m stepping up to do the parts we don’t wanna talk about, and Rigel, he’s doing the heavy lifting.”

  I understood. “Drugs?”

  He squinted at me. “Fuck no. No drugs, no whores; those were my rules, and that’s where I think Adrian fucked up, trying to get in there. Guys bigger than us have been doing that shit for way too long. You don’t even want to start that fight.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir. I agree. What’d Rigel say?”

  “Rigel’s into moving hardware.”

  I nodded. “Guns.”

  “And cars and black market shit.”

  “But no drugs? Are you being naïve, or he said?”

  “His father said. No drugs, no prostitution, and no alcohol.”

  “Oh.” I laughed. “No booze. That’s funny.”

  He shrugged. “It’s still illegal, the shit we do trade in. We can all still get killed, busted; any numbers of tragedies could befall us.”

  “Or we just fly under the police radar ’cause they care more about drugs and whores and alcohol.”

  “Make no mistake; guns are a big fuckin’ deal.”

  “Bigger than drugs?”

  “Yeah, I dunno,” he sighed. “Maybe.”

  “Whatever. Sounds like I got the easy job compared to the rest of you guys.”

  “You’ll be the respectable one, and that’s necessary. You’re the guy who gets to go to grand openings and to campaign dinners and make donations. You’re the honey that’ll draw the flies that get caught in the web.”

  “That’s quite the sinister metaphor there.”

  He grunted. “Yeah, well. It’ll be shit to be you sometimes too. When some dirty politician realizes that you’re not as benign as you seem, there will be trouble. That’s why you’re gonna move. House, cars, Landry will have people watching his place, keeping him safe. The step you’re gonna take is for life. There’s no turning back.”

  “Landry can’t ever be in danger, or my family, Gabe.”

  “I know. Everybody knows. There are rules. The target will be on your back, Trev—just like mine, just like Rigel’s—but if they squeeze the trigger, it gets squeezed back, right? And who’s gonna fuck with the man who has Conrad Harris for muscle?”

  The thing was, I wasn’t scared. I was at the shallow end of the pool; Gabe was the one navigating the shark-infested waters.

  I studied his face. “I’m sorry it can’t be you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sorry you don’t get to be the mostly legitimate guy.”

  “I should have thought of that before I did my three-year stretch. And once I was out, I should have gone straight instead of letting Adrian Eramo talk me into being his muscle and his man. The first time you pull the trigger, it’s over.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “And that’s how I plan to keep you.” He smiled, leaning forward to squeeze my shoulder.

  I took a deep breath. “What if Rigel gets killed, and then you, and I’m left alone without any backing? Then what?”

  “Then you roll the dice and hope for the best. I’ll be dead. I won’t give a fuck.”

  “Nice.”

  “Just tellin’ it like it is,” he said and shrugged. “If I get hit, you’ll have to step up and be me, and then you won’t even be able to pretend you’re legit for the cops; they’ll know you’re dirty. And I’m sorry about that. But since we’re bein’ honest, I need to know that you have my back so I only have to worry about what’s in front of me.”

  I understood that.

  He put his hand on my cheek. “I know that you will never walk away from me. I knew that day in the hospital; I knew before that. Adrian was always a little jealous. I know he wished there was one guy who he could point to and say, ‘That’s my guy, and I trust him with my life.’”

  “He trusted you.”

  “Yeah, but he shouldn’t have.”

  And I heard what he was telling me, that he had been the one who killed him. “Did it hurt?”

  “No, it was fast. That was their concession to me.”

  “If you ever have to do me, make mine the same.”

  The slap was fast and sharp. I was startled as my hand went to my cheek.

  “Fuck you, Trevan,” he snarled at me. “I brought you in, I just raised you up—you’re mine. What do you need me to do to prove it to you?”<
br />
  My eyes narrowed as I looked at him. “You take me home with you and you introduce me to your wife and your kids. Today.”

  Not what he had expected. “What? Are you fucking with me?”

  “No. Your wife knows my face, and your kids, and if you ever have to do the whole Michael and Fredo scene in the boat, then you gotta tell Landry and your wife and your kids.”

  “Jesus,” he gasped, taken aback. “My family is completely separate from my—”

  “Yep. Nope. Not after today, not with us, not anymore. We’re gonna be family or I’ll walk away and Conrad fucks over anyone that tries to stop me.”

  “Oh you cocky little bitch; you think Conrad Harris will—”

  “Yeah, I do, and you know he will. For whatever reason, that works, it’s there, and it ain’t changing,” I told him. “So, what? Are we going?”

  He shook his head.

  “No?”

  “Fuck.”

  I grabbed him suddenly, putting my hands on his face as I had never done, holding tight, eyes locked on his. “I will never leave your side, do you understand? Never. I’m loyal, and that still has to count for something, or the rest doesn’t mean shit.”

  He grabbed my wrists tight and stared back at me.

  Neither of us moved for long minutes until he finally closed his eyes and exhaled. I let him go because I knew I had him.

  “Your sense of loyalty is all fucked up, Trev.”

  “Yeah, I know, that’s why I’m gonna go see a shrink.”

  “What?” he asked, leaning back, releasing a deep breath as well.

  “For Landry, you know. ’Cause he goes a little nuts sometimes.”

  “Between the two of you, Landry’s the normal one, you know that, right?”

  I nodded as he shifted forward and told the driver to take us downtown.

  “So you can see Kady’s restaurant that now belongs to you.”

  I smiled as I looked out the window, listening to him as he made a call. He let his wife know that he was bringing home a friend for dinner that night. I liked hearing it.

  I GOT home late, stuffed full of Gabriel’s wife Pam’s peach cobbler as the final act of the evening. She was amazing, his kids were cute, and his housekeeper, his two bodyguards, and the nanny were all pleased to meet me. I had stayed with them, the Pike family, from seven on, having spent the day with Gabriel looking at the space that had been Kady’s restaurant and would be re-opening under new management with a new name. After that, we took a tour of the rest of what Gabe now ran. He took me to meet the new runners who had been hired into the fold, and all of them looked at me the way I looked at Gabriel. I understood. He had introduced me as their boss, and that was what they saw. Now that I was Gabriel’s right hand, he shared everything with me, and I found that I liked that more than I would have imagined. To be trusted implicitly, his faith absolute, had made me mute for a while in the car, the emotion welling up within me.

  “You’ve wanted this,” he concluded.

  “Of course I have.”

  And he liked that I confessed to it so he didn’t have to wonder.

  “Do you have a nice girl, Trevan?” his wife Pam had asked me.

  “I have a nice boy,” I told her.

  “Oh.” She made a face like how adorable is that? “Will you bring him next Sunday for dinner?”

  “I would love to.”

  She was very pleased, and Gabriel just rolled his eyes.

  “So,” I said when I caught him in the kitchen, “me being gay is cool with you and your beautiful wife. How ’bout Rigel?”

  His eyes flicked to me. “His stepbrother lives with him.”

  I waited.

  “His wife lives in Paris.”

  “Okay.”

  “And he can’t say, but I’m not stupid. I know how my eyes follow my wife when she walks into a room. His eyes do the same when he’s looking at his stepbrother, Omar.”

  Well all right then.

  “No more talk about gay or straight. Nobody cares. Besides, it will probably make you seem even less threatening.”

  I chuckled. “That makes no sense.”

  He shrugged and told me to get the hell out of his house. I went to kiss his wife goodbye before his driver took me home.

  I felt good by the time I walked into my apartment and my phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Trevan?”

  The sniffle I got made me wary because I already knew her voice. “Jocelyn?”

  “Oh God,” she moaned.

  That fast, my heart was in my throat. I had been so consumed with Gabriel all day, with my new place in the hierarchy, with what I would have to give up and with what I would reap, that I had forgotten about my boy and the fact that I never got a call from him when he got up that morning. It seemed small—he was with his family, he was safe—but now Jocelyn was crying.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Ohmygod, Trevan, he’s gone.”

  “Who’s gone? Landry’s gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Gone how?”

  “Taken. Kidnapped. We’re waiting to hear about a ransom, but it’s been hours and—ohmygod!”

  “I’ll be right there,” I said and hung up.

  I called Conrad because I was certain he’d know what to do. I apologized for not calling when I got home, wanting to explain everything to him, and asked him to meet me in Vegas.

  “No,” he told me. “I’m coming. I’ll pick you up. Wait for me.”

  “I gotta go to the airport and get a ticket and––”

  “Just stay there, I’m on my way. Don’t move.”

  I waited and paced and called Jocelyn back and asked her to tell me everything from the beginning, very slowly since I was not absorbing words as easily as I normally did. It was hard to retain facts when you were no longer breathing.

  Chapter 9

  I SAT in first class the next morning nearly climbing out of my skin. The only thing that kept me grounded at all was Conrad’s presence beside me. Of course, after the first hour, I attacked him because he was geographically accessible.

  “Why do you care?” I asked him, wanting the fight, picking it.

  His head rolled sideways so he could see me.

  “I’ve never done anything for you.”

  The look in his eyes was hard to read.

  “You don’t wanna talk?”

  Still nothing, just the stare from his lime-and-gold cat eyes.

  “Fine, forget it,” I said, turning away, looking out the window at the black night sky.

  “Look at me.”

  My head snapped back, my eyes returning to his face.

  “Friendship means shit to you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But that’s what you’re saying.”

  “No,” I told him. “I just—”

  “Everyone wants something,” he said softly, leaning closer to me, “except my friends. I have very few, and you’re one of them.”

  “Con—”

  “You never expect anything without paying. You never ask for favors, you never take us, this, me and you, for granted. Do you know what that makes you?”

  I shook my head.

  “It makes you one of ten people in the world who give a crap if I live or die.”

  His eyes, with the flecks of gold in them, were really the most extraordinary color.

  “And then there was Andrade’s.”

  I took a deep breath. “That was nothing, and you always bring it up like it was.”

  He shrugged. “Because it wasn’t nothing; it was a helluva lot more than that.”

  But for me it had never been the extraordinary happening that he thought it was.

  IT HAD been a routine collection. Walking into Tajo Andrade’s club to pick up the money he owed me, we had no idea that we were interrupting a robbery. When we walked down the stairs into the main room, the man turned and, with him, the shotgun he was holding. I didn’t even think. I stepped
in front of Conrad on instinct, shielding him with my body. Our diversion allowed Tajo the moment he needed to pull his Glock and drop the robber with a shot to the head. The second guy took a bullet from Conrad’s gun, the silencer muffling the sound only a little. In the aftermath, as Tajo passed me an envelope and thanked me for being punctual, then ordered his guys to get rid of the bodies, Conrad turned me around and looked at me like he’d never seen me before.

  “You okay?” I asked him.

  And he nodded slowly, his eyes staring holes into me.

  “IT WAS no big deal,” I told him, back in the present, for what felt like the hundredth time. I patted his thigh before I let my head fall back against the seat. “Any of your friends would have done it.”

  “That’s what you’re missing,” he told me. “There aren’t too many of you.”

  But I refused to believe that; the man was much too constant not to be beloved by many.

  “So you have a new job, huh?” he asked me.

  He was trying to divert my mind, keep me from shattering into a million pieces. “Yeah.”

  “And who’s gonna watch your back?”

  “I was gonna ask you, but maybe there’s not enough money in it, huh? Gabe doesn’t think there is.”

  “I have enough money.”

  “I can pay you something, just not whatever you get for taking out drug lords in third world countries.”

  His laugh was throaty and low. “Whatever is fine. If I need more, I’ll take a contract and kill a dictator.”

  “Yeah?” I croaked out, my voice succumbing to the emotion twisting through me.

  “Of course,” he assured me. “Tell them all that I’m your shadow.”

  “Please, they think you are now. It’s why Kady didn’t fuck with me—too scared.”

  His sinister smile, the one that reminded you that he was lethal, was there, curling his lip. “Good.”

  “Ask you a question?”

  “’Course.”

  “That day I met you, what were you doing there?”

  “I was supposed to take Hawkins that day.”

  “No shit?”

  He made a noise in the back of his throat.

  “And you didn’t?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why?”

  “You were more interesting.”