Grabbing the phone from the vanity, I went to the text messaging app. He had either cleared the phone or had never used the phone because it was bare. Typing my number into the sender box, I clicked to send a message.
You can’t keep me here!
Shio! Just let me go back to México! I’d rather be with Felipe than to be locked here!
Shio you can’t do this!
I knew he had viewed the texts because the read receipts were on. Instead of making myself look and feel worse than I already did, I tossed the phone in the same direction as the notebook and sat there, staring at the wall straight ahead.
Italian was right—this was going to be amontaña rusa(rollercoaster).
Chapter 10
Tunan “Tune” Payne
After giving my dick a shake, I tucked it into my briefs and pulled my pants up my waist. Don had handed me the keys and given me an address. In the Ferrari, the six-hour drive had taken only four. I’d been needing to pee for the last two hours, but I wouldn’t dare stop. I’d been shocked that Glow had even accompanied me on the drive. The ride was quiet as we trailed behind a line of sports cars, carrying the rest of the mobsters and their women.
Outside of an occasional sniffle, Glow hadn’t said a word. Don had insinuated that I’d known more than I’d given Glow, but she still hadn’t questioned me. I knew we had to have a serious conversation—this just wasn’t the time or place for that shit. Not knowing where Glow’s head was at, I couldn’t tell if she even cared to talk about that or anything else.
With washed, damp hands, I pushed the door open and paused as a group of surgeons in teal scrubs rushed past me. I kept walking, and the vinyl floors squeaked beneath my Nikes from the fresh wax. The walls were uncomfortably white, and the ceiling was covered with white acoustic tiles.The waiting area was empty of the people I’d walked in with becauseseconds before I went to the bathroom, we’d been called back after waiting an hour. Glow had paced the entire time, with the women trying their best to keep her sane.
“Third floor,” the receptionist called out.
She sat behind a desk, chewing gum as if she didn’t witness death and disappointment all day. Her long lashes fluttered, and though she wasn’t all that in the face, her body made up for it. I’d seen it when we first rushed in, while she was bent over, shuffling through a cart of papers. She hadn’t read the room when she turned around, giving us all fuck-me eyes. It didn’t matter that we’d been tense. The men I’d come in with had dispersed, and with only me left behind, she hadn’t changed her sentiments—ole girl was looking to get fucked.
“Which room?” I inquired.
She swiped her tongue across her glossed lips. They were too small for her face, and the ashy pink color didn’t suit her for work. It didn’t look good on her skin tone at all. Still, I kept a neutral expression and waited for her to tell me Glee’s room information.
“Can I get your number first? Or better yet… I can show you why taking my number would be good for your fine ass.”
She shifted her eyes to the supply closet across from us. I scowled, looking toward the closet, then back to her face, now sporting a big-ass smile, showing all her teeth. I’d never gotten my dick wet in a supply and hadn’t planned on it happening today either.
“Room numba?”
“Is that an accent? Sound like you from Memphis. I love Memphis niggas.” She bit her lip, and I sighed.
My patience was as thin as her edges. Instead of cursing her ass out, I went the easy route. “You’n know if I just finished takin’ a shit and barely wiped my ass, bruh. But you ready to slurp me up in a germ-infected-ass supply closet?”
She shrugged and sniffed the air. “You smell fine to me and look even better.” She grinned, and there was pink gloss on her coffee-stained teeth.
“Miss lady, I’m married. Now, if you can tell me da room numba to my sis-in-law, I would greatly appreciate it.” I gave a tight-lipped grin.
Her smile fell, and her eyes went to my hand that was crossed at my waist.
“Ion see a ring. That’s my bad. Can I see your ID? You know… So I can print you a pass?” She smirked.
She was really working the nerves that I didn’t fucking have.
“No, heffa, you can not. Room?”
She frowned, scoffed, and waved me off. “Room 336.”
“’Preciate you.”
The elevator opened when an old, white couple walked out. Seeing them triggered the fact that I hadn’t seen one black person besides that receptionist and us. This was a small, racist-ass town that I avoided like the plague anytime I traveled from Memphis to Atlanta to Jagoda Bay.
The ride was short, and as soon as I got off the elevator, Nel was ushering a crying Pia back onto it.
