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I worked the end of the shift and helped set up for the next day. I didn’t realize how relieved I was that nothing happened until I handed my cashed out apron to Smithie.
“I must be goin’ fuckin’ crazy. I’m actuallydisappointedthat my joint didn’t descend into pandemonium because of your shit,” Smithie said to me.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I retorted.
Smithie gave me a barely there smile. “Get outta here.”
Tex was waiting at the door and he escorted me to his bronze El Camino. When we were in and buckled up, Tex took off like a rocket and I felt the G-forces pulling me back against the seat. George Thorogood was blaring from the eight-track.
“What happened to your car?” he yelled over the music, somehow calmly, as if he wasn’t propelling us at a million miles an hour to our doom with “Bad to the Bone” as our soundtrack.
I pried my body from the seat.
“It’s at the mechanics,” I yelled back.
Tex was silent a beat, then he shouted, “I got some money stashed away. If you need it—”
I interrupted him, “No, Tex, I’m fine.”
“Not from where I’m sittin’, woman.”
“Really,” I said, a little more quietly but loud enough to be heard. “I’ll be okay.”
He made a noise that sounded like a snort. “If you need it, it’s there. That’s all I’m sayin’.”
I felt the warm feeling in my belly again.
He parked in a disabled spot at my apartment building and got out to escort me.
I was at the doors to the building, keying in the security code, feeling Tex standing behind me when I heard a noise and a scuffle. I turned to see Tex go down, hitting the ground with a thud akin to a giant redwood tree falling.
I looked up to see Louie and Vince, still wearing theirReservoir Dogsoutfits and staring at me. Louie’s face was blank. Vince looked like he wanted to break me in half.
Louie came forward, grabbed my arm and stated, “Let’s go. Marcus wants to talk to you.”
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn and double damn.
I should have remembered to keep worrying, because, for me, if it could get worse, it would.
* * *
They took me south,to the fancy section of Englewood with the big estates and multi-million dollar homes.
We turned right, drove down a secluded lane and pulled to a stop at a house that looked less of a house and more of a castle. They guided me up the walk, Louie on my left, Vince on my right, and we went over a bridge that went over what looked like moat.
Normally, I would find it funny, a castle with a moat in Denver.
Nothing was funny at that particular moment, however.
We walked in the front door and they walked me down a long, wide hallway that was made of stone with a plush, red carpet runner down the middle of it. Every once in a while, on the wall, there was a light fashioned to look like a torch. There were also two full sets of armor and a bunch of crests and crossed swords on the wall.
We turned right into a big room, then right again into what looked like a den, then left into what was a study. There was more of the medieval castle décor there with a big, heavily carved desk, leather upholstered chairs and pennants flying from brass rods at the ceiling.
A man stood there. He was younger than I expected the king of the castle to be and very good-looking. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a second glance. Tall, dark, with serious blue eyes that were somehow frightening, like he’d seen it all, done it all and wasn’t scared of any of it.
His eyes moved the length of me and something flickered in them when he took in my Smithie’s uniform. He hid it quickly.
