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“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he answered smoothly. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
“You can help her by leaving her alone,” said Silas.
Aimon Lozano’s mouth went tight for a moment before breaking into a smile. It wasn’t a good smile.
“I would’ve been happy to leave you all alone,” he answered, “except now we have a major problem.”
A sudden crash caused everyone to whirl again, just in time to see the fresh cascade of glass and broken mirror behind the bar. Cody had thrown the bottle he was holding.
“What’s the problem?” he asked innocently.
“The problem,” Aimon snarled, “is that my brother has a partially collapsed windpipe with esophageal lacerations. His neck has turned six different colors so far, and my uncle likes none of them.”
His uncle…
A vague recollection of a conversation with my brother clicked in my brain. The twins’ father had apparently been one of two big Lozano bosses, but he’d been murdered a decade ago. Messy stuff, according to Evan.
I supposed that left the twins’ uncle as the sole head of the family.
“Your brother’s lucky he’s still breathing at all,” Cody said casually. He nodded toward Silas. “I’ve seen him kill insurgents with one hand while calling in an airstrike with the other. He must be losing his touch.”
Silas shot his friend a dirty ‘you’re not helping the situation here!’ look. But not before rolling his eyes.
“The point is, the girl’s got nothing to do with you or your brother,” Silas reasoned. “And neither do we.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Aimon shrugged. “At this point my uncle demands satisfaction. Maybe even restitution.”
“Restitution?” Cody scoffed.
“For now he wants to see the girl personally,” said Aimon. “We need to know exactly what she was doing that night, why she was following us. Our cameras showed her entering the club hours beforehand. She was spying. Watching.”
“But I already told you—”
“In short,” he cut me off, looking cataclysmically annoyed, “we need to make sure she poses no threats or problems to us.”
Silas shook his head. “She doesn’t.”
“Then leave her with me,” Aimon suggested casually. “My uncle is fair, but thorough. He’s demanded to speak to her, and once he sets his mind to something—”
“Not gonna happen.”
Cody crossed the carpeted floor, to the tinkle and crunch of broken glass. He walked to where Aimon was standing, stopping only when their faces were just inches apart.
“You and your entire family will leave the girl alone,” he seethed. “You’ll stay far away from the gym, too. And us.”
Aimon’s expression finally broke. He laughed, evilly.
“Or?”
Cody’s return smile was just as evil, just as menacing, but in a more palpably dangerous way. Hell, it even frightenedme.
“Orlotsof things,” he sneered, before spinning away.
Twenty-Three
SANTIAGO
The place was seedy, but of course it would be. It was in the worst part of town. The worstpartof the worst part of town actually, which pretty much made it the asshole of Oakland.
