“Just water for me, please,” I order, nervously opening my menu and trying to find something to eat if Antonio lets me order for myself today.
Under normal circumstances, there’s no way I’d be out with him again, but I want to get this briefcase for Lukis. The problem is, I don’t know how. The cool leather rests against the outside of my calf, but it’s not like I can grab it and make a run for it. I don’t have a car here, and I’m not dumb. My odds of making it out the front door with the briefcase are slim to none. I should have given my plan a little more thought before I agreed to meet Antonio. With more time, I could have concocted a great escape rather than spending my afternoon locked in the room making googly eyes at Lukis.
I suck at this spy business.
The waitress gets Antonio’s drink order, and he smiles in my direction a little too hard. “Water for me as well. And also, a jar of peanut butter.”
“Peanut butter?” the waitress asks.
“Yes, the entire jar.”
“We buy in bulk so it’s a big jar.” The waitress taps her pen on her order pad, annoyed at being held up.
Antonio smiles deeper. “That’s okay. I need a lot.”
The waitress stares at him for another second or two and then lifts her shoulder and turns, walking back to the kitchen.
My knee bounces, the heel of my foot tapping against the tile floor. “So, have you been here before?” I ask out of sheer nervousness.
Antonio runs his hand over my shorts and stops on my uncovered knee. His fingers dig into the sides, pressing into my skin and my knee stops jiggling.
He leans closer, and his breath whispers against my ear. “You know, Bella, if this had turned out differently, I would’ve loved fucking you. It’s a shame.”
My head whips in his direction. “What?”
He squeezes my knee harder, the bones rubbing together. Antonio slides closer, the leather of the seat squeaking. He stops once our bodies touch, lining up from hip to leg. The leather briefcase the only thing between us. The mobster smiles, but as we stare at each other, the tips of his lips fall down and his expression becomes evil — a look of pure terror I’ve never seen on anyone in my life. It’s like looking at the devil sitting beside me. My heart beats faster as my breath stalls. If I wasn’t terrified out of my mind, I’d make a joke about him sprouting horns. All earlier thoughts I had about living an adventurous life and being a cool spy like Lukis come rushing back. I wanted adventure but I’ll get a death sentence.
“Yesterday, all I wanted was to take you home with me. Screw around a little before I put you in with the rest of the them and pass you out to my friends. But now I know you’re working with Lukis Thompson, that’s not possible.”
“Lukis who?” I ask.
“Don’t play dumb,” Antonio says, squeezing his fingers together against my knee. The pain is so thick, I reach down to move his hand but it does no good. The tugs don’t affect him at all. “You look hot when you’re scared like a little rabbit. I like my women feisty. Lukis should know that. I’m disappointed he would send someone like you to get past me. You’re not my normal type at all. He’s gotten sloppy.”
The waitress stops at the table, carrying a huge bucket that must be at least five pounds of peanut butter. It’s so heavy, she uses both hands to carry it. Antonio stops sneering to look up and smile in her direction. The waitress, Jasmine written across her name badge, smiles back as she scooches the peanut butter to the middle of the table.
“We need a few more minutes before we order,” Antonio says, like we’re in the most normal situation in the world.
The waitress smiles and nods, tucking her order pad back into a fold of her apron. And then without a second look in my direction, she turns and walks away, leaving me here at a table with two madmen. One is grabbing my knee and threatening me, and the other is sitting across the table pretending he doesn’t hear any of it.
“Do you know my favorite way to kill someone?” Antonio asks leaning into my ear again.
I swallow hard and shake my head.
“We kill them,” he says, his smile growing, the evil look stretched across his features. “Then we cover them in peanut butter and leave them for the animals in the woods. Also works for the desert, if you’re in a pinch.”
My heart stops beating. Really, it just stops beating. Antonio taps the side of the jar of peanut butter, his fingernail not making a sound against the plastic container.
“I like to call it a teddy bear picnic. We consider it our own special little way to give back to the wildlife. Conservation efforts are important in America. There’s so much urban sprawl going on, I like to think we do our part to keep the animals fed.” His eyes widen, waiting for me to look at the jar of peanut butter, but I can’t move my head.
Across the table, Gooney laughs.
“I could scream,” I say. Sure, it’s a feeble defense but I don’t have anything else going for me.
It doesn’t seem to faze Antonio at all. “Yes, you could, but no one here cares. Have you seen the police force? There’s a reason I put up with staying at the shitty motel. The place has a cop but I’m sure he’s related to Barney Fife. Just like all worthless pigs. He couldn’t stop me if they caught it on camera.”
“Lukis will come after you.” I don’t know if he will or not, but I like to think he’d care at least a bit. Enough to avenge my death.
Antonio laughs . . . He doesn’t care. “Maybe, but you’ll already be dead so what does it matter to you?” He pulls the briefcase off the floor and sets it on the table. “I know you’re after my baby, but you’ll never get it. I watch this thing like a hawk.” He laughs again. “I love it more than my children.”
Antonio unlocks the case, and the top pops open. Inside, the papers sit as he put them when I watched on the camera earlier. He pulls a few pieces off the stack and lays them across the table. I get a good look but the font is tiny and my brain can’t focus. It’s a bunch of times and dates listed beside random places across the country. Towns I’ve never heard of before. Shepherdsville, White Grass, Westford, they all blend together on the page. I skim the top page over and over to work the towns and at least one time a day into my head, but it’s no use. My brain is frantic trying to find a way out of the booth before Antonio can do whatever he does with the peanut butter for a teddy bear picnic.
“Now I want you to pull out your cell phone and call Lukis to tell him goodbye for me.”
“You want me to call Lukis?” I ask, pulling my phone from my back pocket with shaky movements. I use my fingerprints on lock the screen, missing the first two times because I can’t line it up correctly. The screen lights up with notifications every time it doesn’t work.
I’m bumped hard on the right side of my body, a heavy force pushes me further into the booth against Antonio as I slide over to make room. The bodyguard across the seat tenses and tries to stand up, but he’s stopped by the tabletop.
“No need, Sugar Lips. I’m right here,” Lukis says staring down Antonio over my shoulders. “All under control, huh?”
10
With a cold smile on his face, Lukis reaches over and plucks Antonio’s hand from my knee. He rubs the spots where I’m sure to have fingerprint bruises tomorrow and places his hand on my other side.
“Antonio,” Lukis says, still smiling. “I see you’ve met Sugar Lips.”
Antonio stares at him quizzically for a second. “You mean Hannah? Yes, she is a delight.” Antonio’s smile looks more evil as his friendly demeanor falters for a moment. “It’s a pity she ended up in your lot. I could’ve done great things to her.”
Lukis shudders as if he’s imagining the horrible possibilities of what Antonio means. His grip on my knee tightens with a loving affirmative, not out of anger. At least, I hope not. “We’re all glad you’ll never get that chance.”
“Is she? She could live it up my mansion. Instead, she’ll be traveling the world in your beat-up Jeep as nothing more than a lapdog for Ridge Jefferson.”
Not that it’s a possibility for me. Eventually, I have to get back to life and do adult responsible things. I guess. I’ve never made it more south than Vegas and the thought of what could be on the East Coast is exciting. If I ever get my shit together enough to save a little money, I’ll take a short vacation there sometime. After I find a new job, and a new place to live, and a new car.
I’ll never get to the East Coast. If my seventeen-year-old self saw me now, I’d slap myself.
“Ridge is a good man, but he doesn’t own me. I work for myself, and I take pleasure in bringing scumbags like you to justice.”
Antonio laughs. “Have you? Have you brought me down, Lukis Thompson? It seems like I’ve won. Wouldn’t you agree, Rasp?” he asks the large gentleman sitting across the booth from us. It’s the first time I’ve seen him acknowledge him. And sadly, his name isn’t Gooney.
I freeze, not moving my position, my phone poised with both my hands hovering above the table. Like I’m in the animal kingdom, I play dumb so not to alert any of the testosterone-throwing men that I’m still here. It seems like the safest course of action. The only part of my body that changes is my heart trying to beat out of my chest and my thumb as I scroll across my phone screen. No one notices either of those things.
“See, Gambo, that’s where you still don’t get it. Winning is all about what you consider the prize, and I plan to walk out with mine.”
“You aren’t walking out with these papers.” Antonio leans into my side, putting his face closer to Lukis.
“The papers aren’t the prize.”
Antonio smiles, and I stop reading as both men lean closer and closer, squeezing me in the middle. “So, it’s the girl then?”
“Yes.”
I stare at Lukis, my eyes widening a little. My heart accelerates at the mention Lukis believes I’m the prize rather than this important stack of papers spread across the restaurant table. On the other hand, I don’t think you’re supposed to lay all your cards out like this, but I’ve never been a gambling girl.
“I commend you, Lukis. You never been one to put the girl first.”
“This one’s different.” Lukis leans back, his hands fiddling with something behind his shirt.
Antonio taps the table twice, the noise loud over the whispered conversation.
Nobody in the diner had given us much concern or attention, but it’s as if the entire place has clued in. Conversations stall. I’m not the only person not moving. Groups of diners haven’t left their tables. Even the waitress hasn’t approached to finalize our order. We’re all in a standoff waiting to see what happens.
“Do you think it wise to tell me you’re so fond of her?” Antonio slowly runs his hand through the bottom portion of my hair, his fingers getting stuck in a small snarl.
Lukis growls. “Maybe, maybe not. But like you said, you’ve already won, correct? Hannah and I are going to get up and walk out of here. You can keep your papers, and I’ll keep the girl. This time, we’ll call it a draw.”
Antonio shakes his head, but not necessarily in agreement. More likely disbelief. “You surprise me, Paisan. It was not so many years ago we were not enemies.”
Lukis snorts. “Feels like a lifetime.” His hand is back on my leg, and he rubs it reassuringly. I breathe in oxygen, trying not to move my body and make sure no one looks in my direction. “Lean forward, Sugar Lips.”
I do as Lukis says, leaning my chest closer to the table. It works out marvelously. I’m forced to lean farther forward, which puts the papers on the other side of the table in my line of sight. I continue to try memorizing places dates and times, just in case. Lukis’ hand passes behind and stops in the middle of my back, something cold pressing against my skin. His finger moves and the sound of a gun cocking stills my movements again.
“Really? In public, Lukis?” Antonio laughs like he’s not bothered by a gun being pointed in his direction.
“Like you said, Antonio. You won. Your information is safe.”
Antonio smirks like he’s never been more proud of himself, like a cat who just ate a delicious bird. Probably a canary. He collects the papers scattered across the table, stacking them in neat piles and placing them back in his briefcase, never once looking at me or Lukis. His black hair, still gelled, flips to one side as he closes the case and latches the sides.
Antonio taps the top of the case. “I know. I always do. When you realize that and want to work for the winning team, give me a call.”
“That’ll be a cold day in hell,” Lukis spits the words across the table. He retracts the hand from my back, holding what I can only assume is a gun, and squeezes my knee with his other hand. “Time to go, Sugar Lips.”
Lukis pushes out of the bench seats, and with the hand on my upper arm, takes me with him. I still do my best not to move, or move as little as possible while standing. Once we are both out of the booth, he pulls me a step in front of him, and I don’t fight.
“Walk to the door slowly,” he whispers, keeping one hand on my hip.
We’re four steps from the table when Lukis stops and turns back. “‘Til next time, Antonio.”
Antonio nods his head and smiles. “Until next time, Lukis.”
Then, as if we’re four people out to dinner, not a crazy thing in the world going on, Antonio turns and engages in conversation with his goon while Lukis gently pushes me out of the restaurant.
The door closes behind us, and we stand on the sidewalk for less than a second before Lukis turns to the right, pulling me toward his big green Jeep.
He mutters almost inaudibly to himself as we jog to the other end of the parking lot. Once we’re both inside the Jeep, I hurry to buckle my seatbelt, panic causing me to miss two times.
“I had to hook up with a girl who thinks she can run off with fucking Antonio Gambo.”
“I didn’t plan to run off with Antonio,” I yell as Lukis shoves his key into the ignition and turns it, starting the Jeep.
He barrels out of the parking spot. “Well, what the hell were you thinking, then?”
“Antonio called me,” I yell back. “I thought I could help you out by stealing the briefcase.”
Lukis hits the steering wheel hard with the bottom of his palm. “That’s why I didn’t tell you what I was doing. I could see it in your eyes. You’re a troublemaker.”
I scoff. “I’ve never made trouble until I met you.” This is what happens to us girls. We try to do something nice for our man and they get angry about it. There’s no appreciation.
Also, when did I start calling Lukis my man? That’s concerning.
Lukis turns left and speeds down the main paved highway in the opposite direction of the motel.
“Hey! You’re going the wrong way.” There’s nothing out this way for miles until you hit Vegas.
Lukis turns his head slowly, looking like the little girl from the Exorcist, his eyes bugged out and a vein in his forehead pulsing. “You think we can go back to the motel? I held a gun to Antonio Gambo in a shitty ass diner in a town that doesn’t even have a name, and you want to go back to that motel?”
Well . . . When he puts it that way. “But what about my stuff?” There’s nothing valuable in my backpack except a cool new swimsuit I paid for but haven’t gotten to dip in chlorine yet. And my driver’s license, which would be handy to not lose.
“Your bag is in the back,” he says, his foot pressing down on the gas harder.
I turn and check the backseat of his Jeep, and sure enough, my bag is tucked behind the seat.
Lukis hits the top of his steering wheel again, and it draws my attention back to the cab where we are in the middle of flight. The only problem is, Lukis has gone quiet. His eyes are set far out the window as he speeds down the road, taking the small turns to the desert q
uickly but with caution. It doesn’t seem like the time to distract the man who is participating in his own high-speed chase. I watch his facial expressions as they change. One minute, his face is calm and collected like he’s thinking about pleasant memories. The next, his forehead pinches together, and his lips form into a straight line as he scowls at the road. His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel, and his foot hits the gas a little harder.
I practice my not moving thing again. It worked so well in the restaurant.
About forty minutes of this go by before Lukis hits the top of the steering wheel again. “I can’t believe I let Antonio walk out with those papers. Six fucking months of my life down the drain. And now I have to call Ridge and tell him I didn’t get the information.”
My stomach drops because even though I wouldn’t admit it to him, I realize it’s my fault. I only hope what I give him will make up for a bit of it.
I should practice my contrite face and look sad, but I can’t help it when a small smile peeks out from the corners of my mouth. If Lukis took his eyes off the road for even a moment, he’d see the excitement in my eyes. “It might not have been a total loss.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got the girl. You can pay me back later tonight. After I get us as far away from here as possible.”
I slip my phone out from the space on the seat between us. “While you two were arguing like schoolchildren,” I hope he doesn’t think I’ve missed the discussion of a time when Lukis and Antonio were friends. Yes, I plan to ask him about that, eventually. “I snapped a few pictures of the papers on the table.”
The Jeep slows. “You did what?”
I unlock my phone and go to the photo album app. My signal has been roaming for days and it kills my battery life but there’s enough time to pull up the fifty or so photos I snapped. Some of them are too blurry to make anything out, but I took pictures while trying not to be noticed, so I’m giving myself grace here. The first five aren’t usable, but after I got my technique down, the rest are crystal clear. If you zoom in, the dates and locations are easily readable on my photos.
Quickest Risk Page 6
