Dirty Money (9 page)

The meaning of their words suddenly sank in. The reason for them pounding on my door at six a.m.

“Wait, guys. It’s gone? The gold is actually gone?”

They both turned to me and shouted, “Yes.”

“No,” I whispered. It couldn’t be. “How?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that.” Ryan grimaced.

“She’s lying.” Reese was itching to raise that gun to my temple again. Or fuck me. I couldn’t tell which.

“I’m not,” I swore. My mind was moving faster than it had in days. Why were they still after me if they had the gold? “What more do they want?”

“Huh?” Ryan failed to follow my train of thought.

“Yeah, what?” Reese too.

“Vito, Christopher. What else do they want?”

“I don’t follow.” Ryan looked confused.

“Vito’s guys have been following me for the last three days.” I slid to the floor, my legs no longer able to hold me up.

“What?” Reese crossed to the window and flicked the curtain open far enough to glance out. “Are they watching now? Why didn’t you tell us when we came in?” She dropped the curtain in favor of scowling at me.

“Shit.” I acted like I cared. I didn’t. “It must have just slipped my mind.”

“You’re fucking pathetic.”

I was practically naked except for an empty gun holster and a religious necklace and I was clutching a bottle of tequila like it was life, love, and death all wrapped up together. Couldn’t really argue with her assessment. Reluctantly, I picked my sorry ass up and crossed to Reese’s side. She continued to glare.

“You mind?” When she didn’t move, I slid between her and the window taking serious pleasure in the way her warm clothes felt against my skin. A quick look at the parking lot gave me nothing. It was mostly beaters and massive trucks, the kind that imply a lack of other equipment. There was a motorcycle and an old scooter. That was it.

“Are they out there?” Ryan asked.

“Doesn’t look like it,” I said. Reese started breathing again, making her tits brush against my naked back. “They could be watching from a room.” That didn’t look likely though. All the windows visible from my room had their curtains shut tight. “But I don’t think they’re here.”

“We need to go before they show up.” Reese stepped away from me. “I’ll go first and get the car. Wait for me to pull up in front of the room. Then you can come out.”

“Why’re you going first?” Ryan looked concerned.

Reese opened the door. “Because it doesn’t matter if they get me.” Then she walked out without a backward glance.

“Shit. Get back here,” he called, but she was already gone. “Damn, she drives me fuckin’ crazy.”

“Me too.” I let the curtain fall and turned back to him.

There was a second of hesitation. A moment of what if she comes back. And then we tackled each other so I didn’t know who was holding who.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“So sorry,” I told him.

“I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to leave you.” His hands were going to leave bruises. I didn’t care.

“No, it’s fine,” I reassured him. “She’s your sister. You had to pick sides. You picked the right one.” I slid my hands into his hair and held him even tighter. Damn, that was comforting. He hadn’t showered in a couple days. I loved that smell on him. Dirty boy. Deodorant and unwashed hair and just a little bit sweaty.

“I missed you.” His breathing was labored like he really might cry.

“I know. Me too. Don’t cry.”

“What are you talking about?” He sniffled. “I’m not gonna cry.”

“Yeah, me either.” We were lying.

“We’re going to figure this out,” Ryan said.

“Yeah, sure we are.” I really didn’t see how that was going to happen.

“I kinda wish you were still sleeping with her.” He let go of me long enough to rub a hand over his face. “Never thought I’d say that.”

I started laughing, which made me want to cry. Or throw up. Whatever.

“Here.” He dug into his pocket and handed me a new pre-paid cell phone. “I’m not leaving you this time. Even if I have to drug her and tie her up.” He dragged me tight up against him again.

“That’s sweet.” A real grin spread across my face. It felt good.

The door cracked open. Ryan and I broke apart. He looked guilty as hell. I probably did too.

“Disgusting,” Reese said.

“We gotta talk.” I took a step toward her.

“Get in the car.” Ryan didn’t move. “I said get in the car, Ryan.” He gave me a look and slipped out the door.

“Wait, we need to figure this shit out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out.” Reese was trying to kill me with her eyes.

“There is—”

“No,” she cut me off. “We’re done.”

The door slammed behind her. I fell to the ground, head in my hands. Ryan’s promises were meaningless.

It was over.

I pulled the door shut behind me. Probably unnecessary. I headed for the most likely sedan in the parking lot. The heels of my new loafers clicked lightly against the scarred asphalt. They felt like butter and smelled like my grandfather’s bomber jacket. A gift from Reese in Vegas. I was wearing another of her gifts, pants tailored under her watchful eye. I wondered, for a moment, why the twins only left me clothing that Reese had picked out.

My H&K was under an unbuttoned shirt that gave the impression that I actually cared about covering the weapon. Belatedly, I realized I was dressed almost the same as Vito the first time I’d seen him.

The driver of the car wasn’t surprised when I got in the backseat and said, “Take me to Vito.”

He didn’t utter a single word as we left San Felipe and drove south. About a mile down what appeared to be a very long road, he turned into a driveway that was barely visible. It wove down to a house sitting on the edge of the beach. Nice place. The kind Mexican drug cartels have in movies. Creamy white adobe and windows covered by dark Venetian blinds.

“Follow me,” the driver said as he parked in front.

He led me inside to a parlor where he left me alone. I didn’t sit, just waited with my hands in my pockets as if I were calm. Five minutes went by, ten. Only the desert was visible when I peeked out the windows. A few large cacti and some desert shrubbery hid the low house from the stretches of highway visible through the hills.

After twenty minutes, Vito joined me.

“I knew you’d see it my way.” He stood in the doorway, stance similar to mine. Except he actually looked relaxed.

“You didn’t give me many options,” I responded quietly. “Well played.”

That made him smile. Or at least as much as he was capable of smiling.

“I get what I want,” he said.

“Well played,” I repeated with a grimace. “I can’t go back to the States ’cause I’ll be too easy for you to find there.” He nodded. “I don’t have enough money to get to Europe or South America.” Another nod. “And you’re going to make me pay for killing two of your guys some way or another.” A smile and a nod. “I can’t keep running.”

“We’re not chasing you.” Vito shook his head. “Come. Let’s get a drink.” He turned and walked down a wide hallway toward the back of the house.

“Your plan didn’t work quite well as you hoped,” I said as I followed him.

“Why is that?” he asked without turning around.

“She left me.”

His step faltered, but he still didn’t turn. “That can be remedied, I’m sure.”

At least someone was confident about that.

The back of the house was taken up by one long room. An impressive bar was at one end, the middle looked like a dance floor, and wide doors opened out onto a veranda overlooking the water. Sand came right up to the steps.

“Scotch?” He asked, the bottle already in his hand.

“Sure.” It couldn’t be helped. I was going to be a DiGiovanni. The terms had merely changed.

Vito handed me a heavy glass and we sat outside. I took a sip of my drink. It was the first booze I’d had in twelve hours. When Reese left, I’d finished my tequila, passed out, and woken up to complete darkness. I’d had the dream again. It was detailed in tears on my sheets. Blood and silver and Tommy and dying Reese. It took most of the night to get courage, real courage, not the liquid kind, to hand myself over to Vito.

“So she left you?”

I nodded. “It was your fault.”

“Mine?” He looked surprised.

“Didn’t you think that Reese might not be too happy when I hooked up with another chick?”

“You slept with another woman?” Vito’s bushy eyebrows climbed into his receding hairline. “Bad move.”

As if I didn’t know that. “I didn’t sleep with her so I hope you didn’t overpay that whore.”

“What whore?”

“The one you sent right after convincing me I could never trust Reese.” Shitty plan if he wanted Reese and me to stay together.

“I didn’t send anyone. And when did I convince you that you could never trust Reese?” He sounded genuine.

“In the bar, with all your pictures.”

“I was trying to show you that working for us wasn’t terrible. Reese didn’t have any moral qualms. Only a weak stomach.” He regarded me over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of scotch.

I didn’t think he was lying, which meant Vito wasn’t the only one fucking with me.

“You really didn’t send some chick to seduce me right afterward?”

“No.” He was telling the truth. Shit.

“Well, I guess I’m that stupid then.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. I did what I always do.” I started covering my ass. Information was power. It was the only currency I had. “A relationship starts to falter and I make damn sure it fails.” For some reason, I found myself telling him the truth. Most of it at least. “Generally, I procure the help of another woman.” Vito was shaking his head. “Reese didn’t like that.”

“I don’t imagine she would.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Grief suddenly rose from the various dark places I’d hidden it and started to coalesce into a lump in my throat. It was a reminder of all I’d lost, all I’d thrown away. I swallowed hard, pushing the pain back where it belonged. I wasn’t alone. I had Vito. Someone I’d never thought could soothe me. He’d done it before though. In the desert after beating the shit out of me, he lent a cool hand that made the pain seep from my aching head. He was doing it again. Leeching the hurt from my soul.

What the fuck was I thinking? Vito wasn’t my mother. He wasn’t Reese or Ryan. There would be no warm love. I shouldn’t make too much out of a comforting hand.

“So what now?” I forced myself to continue the conversation. Reese had sent me here to get information, not bond with Vito.

“Now we make you her only option. She’ll see things our way.”

A shiver went down my spine. Vito didn’t notice. He wanted to make me as heartless as he was. But he didn’t know I’d already lost my heart. Maybe he did. That’s why he chose me to get to Reese.

“How do we do that?” I asked even though I was sure I wouldn’t like the answer.

“Money first.” Vito locked eyes with me. “Where’s the gold?”

Shit. He didn’t know where it was either? I was so fuckin’ screwed.

“Gone,” I answered immediately.

“But you’ll be able to find it.” He didn’t ask. He told me.

“You find the twins, then I’ll find you the gold.” It was a bluff. He didn’t need to know that. I didn’t have Reese or the money, but I was planning on having at least one. This was the first step.

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“I’m not trying to negotiate.” I wasn’t. “I’ll give you the address of the storage unit it was in, but I know it’s not there. I won’t have any idea where it is until we get a location on them. Then you’ll have your money,” I promised. “How long until you trust me?”

Vito stretched his face into a smile. “I’ll find a way to trust you.” Scary.

“Yeah, but how long till your boss does?” I smirked. “That might take a while. He never trusted me.” The twins’ stepfather might have respected me in some weird way, but he didn’t trust me. He didn’t trust anyone.

“Which boss are you talking about?” Vito looked like he really thought I was losing it.

“Christopher.”

“Christopher?” He seemed to find that amusing. “Christopher isn’t my boss.”

“Huh?” I didn’t get it.

“Christopher is bottom rung.” He chuckled. “He reports to me.”

I didn’t really know how to respond to that.

“He’s a glorified babysitter. And a terrible one at that,” Vito said.

I stared at him. My mouth might have even been hanging open.

“The little bastard lost the twins and the millions we’d given him as a retainer. Never take that much money out of a bank,” he instructed me. “It doesn’t end well.”

Something that sounded like choking came out of my throat.

“Didn’t you know?” My new mentor looked surprised.

“No.” I tried to understand what he was telling me. “So all these years he still worked for…?”

“He was on the payroll.” Vito was careful to not say the name. That was a habit I would need to learn.

“Douche bag,” I spat.

“Not a fan?”

“Hated him from the moment I met him.” It was a lie, but it was a comfortable lie, built from years of anger. Anger was good. Anger had the power to override other emotions. “He’s worthless.”

“Cooper.” Vito put his hand on my shoulder again, briefly. “We agree on so many things.” Apparently, I continued to amuse him.

*

I asked the bartender for a scotch. It still reminded me of bile, but I ordered it anyway. DiGiovanni. I was a DiGiovanni. Not in name, just everything else.

I wore Carissa’s necklace like penance. It bore her husband’s name. It was a lie. I was a traveler, and it had failed to protect me.

I carried the weapon bestowed upon me, though Reese had never wanted to protect me. Why protect a burden?

I bore scars that made me one of them. Visible and otherwise.

I was a liar, a cheater, a thief.

Yep, I was a DiGiovanni.

I left more of my dwindling cash supply on the counter and headed for the bathroom. It was dark and crowded enough that no one noticed. At least Vito trusted me enough to not follow me around anymore. That was a plus.