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“Works.” He scoffed. “You know as well as I do she’s a hooker. High-end, but she still answers to a pimp.”
“You know who?” I knew I was asking more than I should. The last thing I wanted was anyone knowing how much this girl had piqued my interest. I worked outside of Grim Road, but I was still a club member. Very few women I knew could handle club life.
Our new vice president, Lemon, might be making some fundamental changes, but Rocket was still easing her into everything we did. Some of it -- some of the things I’d done for my country and my club -- were straight out of Hollywood. Most of it was either classified top secret or black ops, not on the books at all. Some things would probably earn me life in prison after that administration was out of office. If I was lucky.
When I told CeCe sometimes the ends justified the means in reference to Crime and Punishment, I hadn’t been speaking metaphorically. I’d killed, but never without a reason I believed justified the killing.
He shrugged. “Word on the street is Ettore Alfonso. He stays on the down low, but I heard he’s mafia. Italian.”
Yeah, I’d heard of Ettore Alfonso. He ran operations on the eastern seaboard in the south, most of it through the Port of Palm Beach. He got his girls to America from various countries through the cruise ships frequenting the port, as well as fencing stolen goods out of the US. The Italian mafia had been relatively quiet since Gotti had been imprisoned, but that was mainly a front. The current boss was keeping things off the radar as much as possible. Alfonso was nothing if not cunning.
“She don’t need to be in that life.”
“Ain’t my business, but I don’t disagree.”
“Do me a favor, Teddy.”
“Yeah?”
“Put anything she orders on my tab from now on. OK?”
“You got it. Someone needs to take care of that girl.”
I nodded my agreement. “I’ll do what I can.” Which meant, I needed to get Crush and Byte on this. I wanted to know anything and everything I could about Cecilia Reyes.
Chapter Two
Cecilia
It took everything I had to not throw something, or release a primal scream. What a fucking day. What a motherfucking day!
Ettore was sending me to an associate he needed something from. I had no idea what and didn’t much care. The less I knew the better in most cases. But this guy was a fucking pig. Every time he needed Marco’s assistance, instead of money the man asked for me. Which meant, once I got to Marco’s, I’d be there at least a week. Every fucking second of it disgusting and degrading.
I had an hour before I had to be there and I needed to calm down or I’d end up worse than humiliated and fucked. Marco could get rough. More than rough. But as long as Ettore got what he wanted, he didn’t care. I was nothing but a piece of flesh to him. Apparently a very expensive piece of flesh since I knew for a fact Marco didn’t get money from his assistance. He got me. The only condition Ettore gave him for his use of my body was that I not be scarred or permanently injured. Marco always pushed it close to the limit. I knew in my heart he’d obliterate that line one day. And there wasn’t a Goddamned motherfucking thing I could do about it.
As was my habit before a job, I went to the outdoor café run by a guy named Teddy. The man was hard working and loved the little café he owned. I’d heard him telling people more than once it had always been a dream of his wife’s to own something like the little restaurant. It was hard work, and he always seemed to be operating very close to the red, but it made him feel closer to her. His only regret was that he hadn’t gotten it up and running before she died.
My heels clacked on the sidewalk as I approached. Unerringly, my eyes went to the set of tables he’d set up for the café along the brick wall out back. The building served as a boundary for the café. It also afforded me a place I could sit and not have to worry about someone sneaking up on me from behind. There was very little I could do if Marco came looking for me or sent one of his goons after me, but I wanted to see it coming so I could prepare myself.
Sure enough, there was my rock. Atticus Benedict.
I’d started coming to the café for the chocolate pie. Kept coming back because Atticus was usually there. I knew he was more than he seemed. I’d heard he was a doctor in Palm Beach over at JFK North. If that was true, he didn’t act like a doctor. He was certainly smart enough, I suppose. He didn’t look like a doctor. Which was stupid thinking. I didn’t look like a hooker, either.
Or maybe I did. I was pretty sure Teddy saw through me. If that were true, then Atticus definitely knew. Which made me all the more angry, because I didn’t want him to see me that way. Anyone else? I’d tell them to go fuck themselves. But Atticus was the kind of man I dreamed about, but knew I’d never attain. At least, not in any meaningful way.
I made my way to my usual table. Thank God no one had claimed it, though there were several people enjoying Teddy’s food this evening. Before I could signal to Teddy, he was there with a piece of the chocolate pie I loved so much and a cup of coffee.
“Thanks, Teddy.” My voice was tight, but soft.
“Kinda crowded in here this evening.” Atticus didn’t look up from the puzzle he was working in a little magazine. Like one of those grocery store puzzle books old people in nursing homes did to keep their minds occupied. Why not use his phone? There were plenty of games to be played there.
“What the fuck are you doing with that?” I put as much disdain in my voice as I could. Was I spoiling for a fight? How would pissing off Atticus, the one man in this whole fucking city I could count on for good conversation to take my mind off my life for a few minutes, be of benefit to me? Was I trying to drive him away?
Maybe.
He glanced up at me. There was no surprise on his face, in fact, if anything, he looked slightly amused. “It’s called a crossword puzzle.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to do one on your phone? Might save a few trees.”
