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Avah mutters something under her breath. “Not printed, but I have the cards. I-I like to keep those with the originals on them for a while, as well as in my cloud.”
“Your work is fucking amazing, but I’m just interested in these.”
She turns and goes through a small container, and selects a tiny micro-SD card and hands it to me. Our fingers touch and the sparks bottle rocket bright and thrilling in my blood.
“Nicolo, what’s your plan.”
I grin, one that doesn’t echo inside me. “I’m gonna take care of this. Don’t worry. Now, get dressed, unless you want to give Diego a show.”
* * *
Avah isn’t stupid, far from it. She knows something is up. So does Diego, who looked at me in that way he has. The piercing, scary one which often has people talking before he touches them.
But all I said was trust me.
I need him to watch her for me, because yeah, something might happen. I’m doing something stupid. He knows it, Avah suspects it, and me? It’s the only fucking way. Into the fire.
I’m hoping not, I’m hoping that the shit I learned from some left of center calls and connections I’ve made will pan out.
I don’t know.
Could end up very dead.
Time, as they like to fucking say, will tell.
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel of the van. It’s one that we use for work, and in the back of my head, I can hear Tizio and Diego warning me. I can hear the soft plead of Avah, and the moans of her in ecstasy.
The photo studio has just opened. I’ve been driving for half the night, thinking. Making those calls. Planning. Now, it’s time.
I get out and go in, and the lady with the gray hair smiles at me.
“Hello,” I say, pulling out whatever charm I might have. “Rhett back there?”
“You have an appointment, Mr. . . .”
He’s back there. Voices float through the place. Her hand is halfway to the phone.
“Thanks, and here.” I throw her a fifty. “Get a coffee. Take your time.”
She frowns. “But—”
“Now.” So much for fucking charm.
She recoils a little and then swallows hard, scrambling up and grabbing her bag. I wait until the bell of the door dings behind her.
Then I go into the back of the studio. A backdoor closes, darkening the place down from that sliver of light. I don’t see who the fuck just left, but I have a good idea. I’m thinking scar. I’m thinking fucking scum of the earth, El Cabeza.
Right now I can’t do a thing.
But there’s a book open on his desk, and a laptop. I smile. “I think you and I need to talk.”
The guy gets up, and he’s more jacked than I thought. Not a problem for me, but for some reason I find it interesting, especially with that mix of fear and aggression on his face.
“Tell Avah to get her ass in here so I can give her severance. And I want—”
“This?” I hold up the card. “Got an interesting photo too. Took me a while to work it all out, see how the pieces fit, but with that fine photo of you and I’m guessing El Cabeza and a girl you helped supply to them, you’re wanting my woman for more than fun and games.”
“You touched her. You—”
