“Stay like man and wife, or stay like uncle and niece?”
“More like jailer and prisoner, to be honest. Though he said it was for my own protection.”
I want to know more but I’ll let her open up in her own time. If she wants to. the fact that it choked her to even talk about it tells me she wants to but she may not be ready for a while.
“Are you hungry, Luce?”
“Why? You want to buy me a thirty-four thousand dollar steak dinner?”
“Is that how much is in the sack?”
“Thirty-four thousand, three seventy.
“Is that a week’s takings or less?”
“That’s from the weekend. But he took some out before.” I’m getting pumped as her eyes slide across at me. She’s got a combination of innocence and devilry that’s waking me up all over. She sees me looking at her and she says, “Uncle Nico kept me in the back because I’m good with figures. He had me keep the books for him.”
“Two sets, right?”
“Of course.” Her voice is low, almost husky as she says, “So, no. I’m not hungry. But I could definitely use a drink.”
Smart and confident. I like that. I’m certain she’s not feeling tough, so I admire how she’s acting easy and sure of herself.
I’m more and more sure I got her out of a rough situation back there. A man like Nico, if he’s keeping a firecracker like this one in the back office when he’s got a club outside with girls operating, it means he’s got something in mind for her. Whatever that is, you know it’s not going to be good.
She’ll tell me more if she wants to.
She says, “That was pretty ballsy, going hard up against Nico that way.”
“Nico? I don’t think I have to worry too much about him.”
“He’s got a lot of people, you know?”
“Sure. I met one of them. The stocky pug he sent out to me in the club? And I think he’s pretty high up on Nico’s food chain.”
“Are you some kind of a sensitive? An empath or something?”
“No.” I like that. The playful twinkle in her eyes stirs me, too. “I just do my homework. I walk into a room, I know about most of the main players before I’ve opened the door.” I tell her, “To be straight with you, that gives me at least a head start on most of the guys in the life here.”
“I know what you’re saying,” she says, “Not many of them were grade A students.” I hear some of the tension slipping out of her voice.
I pick it up. “They’re lazy.” She nods and I go on, “They let their fists and their bullets do their thinking as well as most of their talking,” I know we’re on the same page. “If you grow up taking whatever you want whenever you feel like it, why would you put yourself out with thinking?” I would never talk as openly as this to anyone else. “That’s why they all think they’re invincible.”
Talking like this with her, it feels like I’m skating on an edge. I’d be taking a hell of a risk talking like that to anyone else. You don’t let your private thoughts and feeling out. Not ever.
Then she looks up “I think you think you’re invincible, too.”
“Sure.” I hold back the smile. “But I am.” I don’t want her to think I’m dumb enough to believe the bullshit. “I’m invincible like all the rest of the made guys are. But my plus is, I do my homework.”
“You think you can get away with anything.”
Okay. She caught me. “I think that anyone can. But I’ve got the balls, and I know how.” her eyes are setting me alight. “And I’ve put in the work.”
Then I ask her, “So, you’re from the life, right?”
“Why would you say that?”
“There’s the fact that you were in Nico’s when I found you.”
She looks down. “Yeah.” Now I really want to know her story. What did I get her out of? “But as well as that, you know how it is. You know the score, as they say.”
She’s still looking down. “What are you going to do with me?”
That gives me a lot of ideas. I think it best if I stay quiet a moment. Then, I say, “First, I’ll get you that drink.”
I’m going to need to remind myself that she’s too young for me. And I’m too dirty for her.
Chapter Four
Luce
He walks me past the doormen into Sharkie’s. The club is bigger than Nico’s. There’s more chrome, more mirrors, louder music, and more girls dancing on table-tops. Rooms in back, I see, for private table dances.
He settles us into a booth that looks out across the dance floor.
He says, “We only need to be here a few minutes,” I tell him that I don’t mind. And I ask him for a beer and a shot.
“You’re a heavy-duty drinker.”
I smile. “No. I had a heavy duty afternoon.”
He waves a waitress over. She gives me an uncertain smile. The rhinestone encrusted name tag rising and falling on her pushed up and almost uncovered tit says, ‘Cheryl.’
I make eye contact. Try and let her know we’re okay. I know the game and the rules. I’m startled to realize how much I’ve grown into this side of the life in such a short time.
She nods, then bends low over the table. Gives Connor the view. A pang stabs in my chest and I’m shocked. I don’t feel this way about a man.
Not ever.
My chest swells and stiffens and my breath is thick as he tells her, “Bring us two beers and two shots of rye, Cheryl.”
“Anything you want,” and she wets her lips, letting her tongue slide slowly across.
“And,” he says, “tell Danny to stop by the table.”
She frowns. He puts his hand on her fingers and says, “Tell him it’s today. I’m the guy. I’m the new guy.” Her eyes flash and narrow.
He’s reassuring her. “It’s okay, Cheryl. He’ll understand.” For an instant, I want to stab her. It’s not like me and I
m shocked. I don’t usually have any feelings about men, other than an instinct to keep a distance. I’m not used to feeling like this and I don”’t know how to deal with it.
Whatever it is, I have to control it. If I don’t, whatever is is, it could control me. Sweep me away. And that would be dumb. I’m too young for him by maybe a decade. He can’t be far from Dad’s age. And, whatever he says about a ‘fire inside,’ I know a man like him wouldn’t have much interest in a girl like me.
When Cheryl comes back with the drinks on a little silver tray, a big man swaggers behind her. He’s tall and heavy, probably a hundred and eighty pounds.
The flesh of his neck looks a little flabby and his hands seem puffed. He has a complexion like a man who has not had a hard life. Not anytime recently, at least.
He wears a black leather jacket over a black vest with dark purple embroidery. I recognize Celtic symbols. The vest is over a tailored white shirt with a high collar. He has a gold tooth and heavy silver rings on most of his fingers. Another hangs from one ear.
He has an open, easy smile. That’s not a good sign, from what I’ve seen of mobsters.
He is nicely dressed, though. Like a biker with an Italian tailor.
He looks at both of us with a courteous nod and extends a hand, first to Connor. “I’m Danny.” He has a low, quiet voice. “You wanted to see me?”
I notice him check Connor’s shoes as he comes to the table. They both have a sense of style, and a look of recognition passes between the two men.
Connor waves a hand, and he asks Danny him to sit with us.
Danny’s smile doesn’t dim and his voice stays relaxed. “This is my club, asshole. I do the inviting around here.”
Connor shrugs. “I have to give you a message.”
“And you do it out here? In the public space of the club?”
“It’s just business.”
Danny’s hand moves to his hip. Connor looks in his eye and tells him, “Believe me.” He waits. Then, “It’s a message, Danny. It’s not a proposal, and it’s not up for debate.” His voice is still light
and he says, “Sit.”
Danny’s head turns. His lips tighten and his eyes narrow as he studies Connor. “No fucking surprises,” his hand is still on his hip as he sits. Ready to slide back. A gun, I’m guessing. My chest feels big and hollow as my breath thickens.
Connor hinges the fingers of his hand up off the table. Palm down.
He says, “You don’t need a weapon, Danny. I’m just here to tell you something. The message is, what you have to kick is going up.”
Danny’s neck reddens around his collar. “On your say-so? I don’t fucking think so.” He puts his hands on the table, ready to get up.
Connor shakes his head and takes his voice down. “No. I’m just the errand-boy. Talk to Hercules by all means.” There’s a tone in the way he says, ‘Hercules.’ The light in Danny’s eye changes as he picks it up, too.
He says, “I will.” But he doesn’t move.
“Fifty percent.”
“Increase? A fifty percent hike?” More of his neck reddens. “That’s fucking outrageous.”
Connor doesn’t move and he doesn’t say anything. I’m buzzing. Both men seem calm and relaxed, but it feels like the air in the room is crackling.
Danny’s eyes narrow. “I’m not prepared for this.”
“Of course not. Not today. Next week. For the collection next week.”
Danny sits back. Chews the inside of his lip.
“I don’t know how I can make this work.”
“Like I said. I’m just the messenger.”
“And the muscle.”
Connor shrugs. “We don’t need to get into that. This is business. You know how it works.”
“I know that it’s a fucking outrage.”
Connor lets him sit with it for a moment. Danny’s lips pull tighter and the muscles in his jaw flex.
Then Connor tells him, “I love the vest. Do you get your things made here in town?”
Danny relaxes a little. “Market Street. There’s a guy I like. A block over is a store where they make boots. You might like them, too.”
“I’ll check them out. You get your shirt there, too?”
“No, I get these sent from Italy. A guy in Milan. I’ll get you his details if you want to give him a try.”
“Thanks. I’d like that.”
“Okay,” Danny pauses. “Next week?”
“Sure.” Connor tells him, “Just the regular amount today.”
“Okay. Your drinks are on the house.”
Connor says, “That’s decent of you.”
Danny shrugs. “It could have been worse, you know. There were rumors that the guy from Pittsburg was being hired to come here.”
“What guy?”
“They call him ‘Shock an’ Awe.’ You heard of him?”
Connor smiles. “He’s just a made up booger, isn’t he? A story to scare the kiddies with.”
As Danny rises, Connor stands to shake his hand. They move close for a bro hug. I love watching the two tough men do that. I feel excitement from the way that these two obvious strangers, both powerful men and on opposing sides of a situation, have still connected and bonded. No noise, no fuss. But powerhouses of strength. Like high performance cars, idling.
Connor asks him, “You know Nico’s?”
“Sure, I know it.”
“You have a much more open layout here. You think it works better?”
“It does for a club this size. Nico’s is smaller. You need to create contained areas of space, make more of the intimacy. Here it works this way because there’s a lot of room, so customers don’t have to feel like they’re crowded together.”
“I see what you’re saying.” Connor says, “Nice place you have. Good atmosphere.”
As he’s leaving, Danny says, “Can I send you over some deviled eggs? They’re extra fine today.”
Connor shakes his hand, “Next time, I’d love to try them.”
“Cool yourself, man. You’re new here, right?” Connor nods. Danny tells him, “Don’t rush around so much. Take some time. Enjoy the food. Listen to the music.”
Connor says, “This isn’t the kind of a town to let your guard slip too much.”
Danny laughs, “Oh, it isn’t. There’s nowhere more dangerous. But still, there’s a lot to enjoy here.”
As Danny leaves, I realize I’ve been holding myself, sitting stiff and straight.
I slug the shot. Caramel fire spreads down, lighting me up inside. I feel as if all my sensations and emotions have been sealed in a pickle jar. Now the lid’s unscrewed. The tang is rising in the air my spirits lift.
I relax, sit back and tell Connor, “Now I could eat. Deviled eggs sounded good.”
His eyes gleam and it makes me warm inside. “Not here though.”
When I get up to leave he takes my hand. As his strong fingers touch the palm of my hand, I feel a flash inside like a floodlight and a thud like a quake, deep in the ground below. A change is happening in me.
Chapter Five
Connor
I want to take her to a restaurant, but she says, “Can’t we go to your place? Maybe get takeout?” My sense is that she doesn’t want to be out, exposed in public.
I’m putting off taking her to Corky’s apartment. I want to put her somewhere safe. Corky’s place is safe enough-given who her father is, it’s probably one of the safest places in New Orleans. But it’s not mine. And I don’t know how she and Corky are going to react to each other.
A woman never made me feel confused and turned upside down like she does.
A suite or a penthouse in one of the up-market hotels could work. Live on room service for a week or so. No easy way I can keep her safe in a hotel, though. Not without a lot of help, and there’s nobody here I would trust.
“I only got into town this week,” I tell her. “I haven’t sorted out a place yet.”
Her eyes narrow. She’s probing, now. “Are you staying in a flop house?”
“It’s hardly that. It belongs to a guy, high up in one of the families.” I don’t have to look across to know that she can tell there’s a piece missing from that. She must have heard it in my voice. Damn, I would love to have a woman as smart and as sensitive as her.
She deserves a lot better than me though. And someone her own age. All I can do is keep her safe, take care of her. At least for now.
She lets it pass and she asks me, “Not the Rattigans?” I shake my head, but I can see she wants to know more.
“You’re sharing the apartment? Not with the guy, though, right? The one who’s high-up in one of the families, not the Rattigans.”
“No,” this is going to sound wrong but I can’t see how else to say it so it won’t. “His daughter.”
She blinks and her chin flattens as she nods.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Oh?” she looks me in the face. Her voice is level. “What do I think, big guy? Anyway, what does it matter?”
I’m about to speak but she looks away and she says, “Can we just get a pizza or something?”
Like clockwork, Garret’s name lights up the phone.
“You get the payment from Sharkie’s?”
“I did, yes.”
“So, you’re on your way over.” It doesn’t sound like a question.
“There’s something I need to do.”
“Well, that’s all fine and dandy. Do your something after you bring me my money.”
I don’t see how I’m going to last out two weeks with this guy.
On the way to Garrett’s office, I’m thinking that I’ll park Luce in a restaurant. I remember a place in the tourist and business district, near to the river. I could drop her there. As we get closer, though, I’m not feeling so easy about leaving her all that time, or being so far away from her. So I drive us straight on to Garrett’s office. A meeting with Garrett isn’t going take a long time, so now I’m thinking I’ll have Luce wait in the car.
As I park up, shadows on the street remind me of the area’s sketchy un
desirables. Between leaving her alone in the car and bringing her up to meet Garrett, I have to choose which is safest for her.
Across the street, in direct view of the entrance to the building, parked in front of a garish phone shop that advertises foreign currency, is the most un-classy, tasteless vehicle I ever saw. A stretched Cadillac Escalade in a retch-inducing metallic shade of emerald green.
I’m making a bet with myself that I can guess the driver of that abomination.
The street entrance to what Garrett calls his office looks the same as any of the seedy and smoke-stained tenement lots in this part of town. Inside is a low-rent brothel. The entrance is caged. Two men bulge in dark, heavy suits and lift their lapels to talk into them.
They recognize me, but they still make me tell them that I’m here to see Garret, though I’m certain he’ll have told them to expect me. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I expect it’s to do with me having brought company.
After making us wait, just long enough to be seriously fucking annoying, which I know is the precise intention, the cage opens. Luce and I are ushered in and we go up alone in the big, shaky freight elevator. The metal concertina door opens into a plastic and fake wood barroom under greenish, flickering light.
The bar is manned by the memorable a guy I saw last time I was here, with studs in his lip and blueish-green tattoo ink scrawled on his face. He could have been expelled from a biker club for his low standards in appearance, manners, and personal hygiene.
He’s watching loud and low-grade porn on a tablet. He doesn’t look up as we walk through. This place is not like Nico’s or Sharkie’s. It’s not welcoming in any way. This is a business where customers are so desperate they endure an atmosphere of constant threat.
Or, who knows, maybe they like it that way. People in New Orleans seem to be pretty fucking strange on the whole. I guess people are fucking strange the whole world over. They’re just strange in different ways. But here, people not only practice voodoo, there’s a voodoo museum. It’s like strangeness is in the water and everybody drinks it.
Break Her Free: A Curvy Captive Romance Page 3