Anarchy (31 page)

“Dramatic way to make a point, don’t you think?”

“Sometimes it takes theatrics, but I guess it didn’t work because you know me too
goddamn
well.”

“No one knows anybody better than they know themselves.”

“Is that a philosophical expression you read somewhere or psychology?”

“It’s true
, I took a gamble you weren’t psychotic or suicidal
.”

“
You gambled with my life, what if you were wrong?”

She grimaced, “Oops!”

“Oh, it’s like that, huh?”

She laughed, “Yeah, it’s like that.”

He grinned,
then
glanced at his watch. Anita should be there soon, meanwhile he wanted to know
,
“
Exactly w
hen did you start having me followed?”

Of course he’d return to the topic, “When we arrived in New York.
But
I wasn’t having you followed because I didn’t trust
you,
I did it because
I
wanted to make
sure we were safe. I know…I should’ve said something but you don’t tell me everything. –Oh don’t try and deny it, something’s been bothering you and you didn’t want to worry me.”

Selange was unreadable at times. He was curious, “Who’d you hire?”

“I called
Vinny
.”

“Vincent
Serano
?”

“He said if we ever needed him, he’d come running. We needed him.”

This news surprised him. “I never saw him tailing me. I always did
security
maneuvers to flush out
any
body who might
.”

She came to sit on his lap and fingered his watch. “One thing I do know about my loving husband is he always wears an expensive watch.”

His lip curled in amusement.
Hot damn!

There was a tracking device in the watches, of course!

She stroked his hair, “He saved our asses and I’ll do it again if I have to.”

“Where is
Vinny
?”

“I’m not sure
, somewhere close by I guess
.
It’s not like he doesn’t know our location.
”

He fingered the watch, clever.
Damn she was good and he hadn’t suspected a thing or even considered this scenario.
“Call
him
,
tell him to bring his ass on the plane.
”

She lifted her rump off his leg and went to her purse to get her cell
then s
at
d
own
again, scrolling a finger across the screen.
She leaned
on Alfonzo’s chest and saw him smile
. He
rubbed h
er thighs.

She smiled in response
to his naughty caress
,
hoping the pilot didn’t wander from the cockpit after checking his instruments and get an eye full. 

S
he held the slim device near her ear. A gravelly voice boomed from the phone,
“Hey.”

“
Vinny
, I told on myself.”

He guffawed, “Women can’t keep secrets
, can they, i
s he pissed?”

She studied Alfonzo’s neutral expression, “He’s got the poker-face
,
I
can’t tell.
He probably thinks I’ve had a traumatic brain injury which altered my behavior.”

“Brown sugar, if it weren’t for you his
ass’ll
be sleeping in the morgue!”

“Hey, I heard that
and d
on’t encourage
my wife, you crazy motherfucker!” Alfonzo chimed in.

Vincent laughed.

“
Where are you?”
Selange asked.

“Look left girly
at
Hangar
F
our.”

She moved to the opposite
side
of the aircraft, peered out the window, reading the numbers atop the grey dome structures.  A man
wearing
a blue mechanic jumpsuit,
clutching a
large duffle bag
,
leaned
casually
against the exterior wall. He waved.

“See me?”

“Yep!”

“I’m coming aboard, oh
yeah
and tell your husband
he can thank me later.”

She smiled at
Alfonzo
who watched her intently with an inquisitive brow. “
T
ell him yourself
, when you get here
.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY
-
TWO

R
ap music
and an odorous smell of bleach
emanated from the apartment
into the hall.  The men gathered on either side of
the brown painted door
, removing the safety from their guns. The
one nearest the doorknob held up his fingers, counting down from five.

Four…three…two…one! The door was kicked open, the frame splintered easily and they filed in, guns aimed at the empty walls. The
lead
man
,
stayed flush to the wall
,
absorbing the
lay-out, noticing empty bottles of liquor and shoddy furnishings. He eyed the CD player, Bose, top of the line, everything else was flea market purchased.
The place was
a
drug
den
.

He gestured toward the single bedroom and the other two got in place.

Five…four…three…two…one!

They were in.

The count man searched the small kitchen,
and then
turned his attention to what could only be the bathroom. G
un up,
h
e nudged the
bottom of the
plywood door
with his foot then quickly retracted it.
Nothing.
The rap music annoyed the shit out of him but the noise worked in their favor. He poked his head inside.

“Shit!”

The others were at his side. They’d found nothing in the bedroom and
now
understood why. Someone beat them here.
The count man holstered his gun, flipped on a light for a better view and grimaced.
“What
can we
do with th
is
?”

The
dismembered corpse
of a
Hispanic or black
male floated in the bathtub
,
in what he suspected was bleach.
Who walks around taking heads, the counter man wondered?

He stepped out the door
to
check around the
apartment. The place was clean, whoever got
t
here
ahead of their crew
made sure of it. He opened the closet, pushed back the
racks of heavy coats and smelly winter clothes. Apparently, someone did actually live here. He
rummaged through the
pockets
and found a rather interesting business card. He tucked it
a
way and joined the others.

“Let’s go.”

They exited the apartment
and
shut the door. Rap music continued to blare
, far into the night
.

Alfonzo reached over the head of his sleeping wife to answer his cell. “Talk to me.”

“Somebody
beat my boys there. They g
ot a card
, sent you a
photo.”

Alfonzo checked the picture.
A business card for a pharmacy somewhere in Florida.
“Alright, thanks.”

“Hey kid, need anything else you know how to find me.”

“Thanks, I’ll come visit your new restaurant.”

“Do that.”

The call ended and Alfonzo reclined
in bed. He had Vincent contact the old crew. They were flying in, coming back to work, long-term. If he were doing this, he was going to do it right. No more half stepping.

Selange turned over in her sleep. He still couldn’t believe she’d had the foresight to have protection at the ready out in New York. He’d been so busy trying to live normal, he hadn’t considered the possibility this was
his
normal.

He touched her hair
, chuckled. It was soft to the touch but strong. Just like her. He bent and kissed her cheek. She squat at her face to fend off a pestering insect and he smiled. He kissed her again
, hoping this time she’d wake because his engine was revved and ready to go.

Her eyes squinted, her mouth kissing the pillow as she said, “Am I finally going to get a thank you?”

She was naked beneath the covers; a convenience when a man is hard as stone and needs immediate satisfaction. He climbed over her, and she pushed her buttocks to him. Canine style he soothed himself
and reclaimed part of his broken ego. He held her stomach, bending over her spine, kissing her shoulders, caressing her breasts, exciting in the spasmodic breaths from her lovely lips as he showed his gratitude.

Her hands gripped the pillows, his name whispered repeatedly in the dark as he filled her with the most pleasurable of gifts.
She
arched
further in small convulsions, professing her love and he climaxed, grunting, swearing, making a confession of his own, “I
love you, too and I
’
m lucky to have you, babe.”