AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My thoughts are in disarray as I consider my next steps. If I end up texting Raf, he might want to video call, and that is out of the question at the moment. No matter how much I hate not answering to him, it's better if he believes I'm sleeping in late.
My mind made up, I go to the Queens address on file, stopping a few blocks away from the apartment complex and parking my car. I need to scout the location first and ascertain that Alonso was truthful when he gave me the information.
Walking around the complex, I note that therearea few guards stationed around. And a closer look lets me know they are all carrying weapons.
Hmm…
Making myself slightlylesspresentable, I head to the two guys guarding the entrance.
"Excuse me, could you help me? I think I'm lost," I add in a timid voice, my chin pointing downwards as I peer at them through my lashes.
As intended, the effect is immediate. One of them is flustered while the other a bit more daring as he looks me up and down in a lascivious way, his eyes sparkling with a bad, bad idea.
But I can imagine what they see. A tiny, helpless woman who's lost her way—one who's wearing high heels at dawn when that could only mean one thing.
"Stay here, I'll help the lady," the second guy states, giving the other a look that speaks more than a thousand words.
He places his hand on my arm and he more or less drags me towards the darkened alleyway right around the corner, pinning me to the wall next to the trashcan.
I roll my eyes at the clichéd situation.
"You're lost or you…"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence as I bring my knee to his crotch—hard enough to have him doubling over in pain. Planting my heel on his chest, I lean down and cover his mouth so he won't scream in pain. At the same time, I sneak my hand down his back, removing his gun before pointing it back at him.
"You…"
"I think it's better if youdon'tfinish the sentence," I tell him with a fake smile. "If you want to get out of here alive," I trail off, noting his smile as he looks at the gun, no doubt thinking the sound would attract everyone's attention.
Shaking my head at him, I remove a silencer from the back of my pants, rolling it around the barrel of the gun just as he visibly blanches.
"I just need some information."
"Wh-what?" He blinks.
"Ortega. I know he's inside," I bluff. "I need his schedule."
"How would I know his schedule?" he raises his voice just as I point the gun to his face.
"I'm only taking valid answers. Anything else and there will be a hole in your brain in… Three. Two…"
He must realize I'm serious because he starts stammering.
"He… He always has some girls over today. Paid girls."
"Do tell more."
He blinks, his body shaking.
"Blondes," he whispers. "He likes to play with blondes on Wednesdays."
"Is that so?" I muse, narrowing my eyes at him. "How do I know you're not lying?"
"I'm not, I swear. The agency he uses sends a few girls every day. Each day a different type. Today it's blondes," he continues, telling me that Ortega rents the girls for an entire day.
Odd, but to each their own. If he displayed the same type of effort and inclination to getting his business off the ground, maybe he wouldn't need Michele's charity for it.
Luckily for me, it seems the girls always start their day early.
