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She lengthened that neck with a lift of her chin. She knew well that showing any fear would get her trampled. “If you don’t trust me, why risk telling me that Manny didn’t kill him?”
His fingers tightened around her wrist, guaranteeing new bruises, and he chuckled. “You think anyone’s going to take the word of a whore above that of an honest businessman like Tim Baker? Think again.”
Roman would. Maybe. But Capone didn’t need to know that, so she shrugged again and tossed in a self-deprecating smile. “Touché. And whatever. You’re the boss, Al. You want me to ditch a particular john, he’s gone. At least we’ve made some decent scratch off him, though.”
He grunted and dropped her wrist. “You wanna go to another brothel, be my guest, so long as I get my money. Just don’t try to play me, Sally. It won’t work. Keep your nose clean, you unnerstand?”
“Sure thing, boss,” she muttered to his back as he strode to the door. Once he was gone, safely removed from sight, she ran to the sink and turned on the water as hot as it would go. She got out a new bar of Ivory and scrubbed.
She scrubbed long enough to give him time to get well ahead of her. After she dried her hands, Sally coated her lips in red and left her apartment. The street was pretty active for a Friday night and would undoubtedly be busier still tomorrow. Even thinking about it made her want a bath. With a sigh, she glanced up and down the sidewalk to scope out a good place to take up position.
A scuffle in front of the building next door drew her attention. Jimmy—one of her usual johns—and…was that Topsy? Oh, boy. And both of them drunk. She could only catch glimpses of the figure between them, but those were enough to pull her closer. Expensive shoes and conservative silk dresses had no place on a street like this. Neither, really, did the pleas she heard as she got closer.
No one else paid them any heed—not surprising. Sally might have turned away, too, if freedom weren’t sparkling on the horizon and washing away some of the hopelessness. Instead she edged a little nearer.
Topsy moved behind the girl, gripping her arms, and Jimmy stayed in front. The sound of ripping cloth brought Sally another step closer, in a direction that would reveal the girl’s face. Her brow furrowed.
Dark chocolate hair. Deep brown eyes swollen with tears. Olive skin, enviable bone structure…gorgeous, but no one she knew. Yet so familiar…
Recollection hit her with a crack, propelling her right into the fray without so much as blinking. Sabina. Roman’s Sabina.
“Just what do you two think you’re doing?” Sally elbowed Jimmy away and jerked her head at Topsy. They had obviously not expected to be called out for their behavior—shock made them obedient, exactly as she had hoped. “I oughta take a frying pan to your heads, accosting my cousin like this. Look! You ripped her dress.”
As soon as her arms were free, Sabina folded them over her chest to hold the gaping fabric closed. Her hands shook, and tears coursed down her cheeks. Her gaze moved from the ground to Sally and back again.
Jimmy rubbed his ribs where she had dug in her elbow. “Now, Sally, how was we to know she was your cousin? She don’t look nothing like you. And what’s she doing here, anyway, if she don’t want some attention?”
“Now that’s a good question.” Sally put a gentle hand on Sabina’s shoulder and drew her a step away from the goons. “Sabina, I told you never to visit me here, especially at night. What were you thinking?”
“I…”
Not giving her time to say something that would give lie to the impromptu story, Sally plunged ahead. “We’ll go fix your dress, then I’ll see you home. After these idiots apologize.”
Topsy puffed his chest out. “Apologize? When a girl’s in this part of town—”
“Does she look like she belongs here?” Sally shook her head, not having to feign disgust. “Any man with a shred of decency would have offered to help her home, not tried to have his way with her. I bet her daddy would love to have a little chat with you about that. What do you say, Sabina, wanna go introduce them to Uncle Manny? Bet they’d love to meet a celebrity like him.”
Were they a little more sober they’d probably have realized that no niece of Manny’s would be on these streets either, but the name did its work thanks to the haze of alcohol. They all but tripped over each other as they backed away.
“So sorry, miss.” Topsy doffed his dirty hat.
“Didn’t mean you no harm,” Jimmy added.
Sally couldn’t resist issuing the famed warning of another gangster. “Remember the Maine, boys!” She still wasn’t sure exactly why the mention of the ship from the Spanish-American War elicited such fear, but hey…it worked. They turned and scurried away.
She slipped her arm around the still-shivering Sabina and aimed them at the door of her building. “Come on. We’ll take care of that ripped seam and then get you home.”
“Thank you.” Sabina’s voice shook. She cleared her throat and turned to face Sally. “How do you know who I am?”
Sally pulled open the door, glancing inside warily. Good—none of her neighbors were in the hall with their men of the hour. She had a feeling such a sight would have panicked the poor girl beside her. Ushering her unexpected guest inside, Sally offered a small smile. “I recognized you from the picture Roman has.”
“Roman…? Oh.” A world of realization echoed in that single syllable.
Sally felt almost guilty for shattering any illusions Sabina still had about him. She searched her mind for a plausible lie. Or better still, a half-truth. “I’ve been cleaning his place once a week or so. Trying to earn an honest buck, you know?”
Sabina’s dubiousness saturated her tone. “And how did you meet him, for him to offer you such a job?”
“Uh…” Giving up the game, Sally shrugged, smiled, and opened the door to her apartment. “Okay, you caught me. But I don’t want you to judge him—I mean, he’s a far sight better than most men. And he sure loves you.”
