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Fuck!
Angel was still a virgin, thanks to Poboy keeping her prisoner in his house, treating her like one of his Mazzis, something just to keep in a garage and never drive. Should she thank him for that? Poboy had never raped her body, but he had fucked up her head. Now her first time was gonna be worse than anything Poboy had ever done. But it was still Poboy’s fault she ended up here in the first place.
Yeah, Poboy was a psycho. And guess what? He was dead. Those Koreans shot him in his own crib. Angel saw him laying there, Mr. High and Mighty, Poboy the King Crip, Poboy the big Dog. She saw him with her own two eyes. Just another dead gangster in Los Angeles. She wished she could have put the bullet in him herself…
But what will happen to me now?
6
HOMECOMING
Ross’s assistant Gertrude called while he was in an Internet cafe, going over a newspaper to practice his Kanji. “Hiya, Boss,” Gertrude chirped, her chipper Southern accent a welcome to his ears. It seemed like the Japanese barely raised their voice at all. “Just calling to let you know, your brother Roman’s been at the office every day now, and he said if you don’t pick up your phone he’s going to smash thatJean-Christophein your front yard.”
“The hell he is!”
“Should I put him on the line, sir?”
“Yes, thank you!”
Gertrude hastily obliged.
“You son of a bitch,” the eldest of Ross’s brothers growled through the speakers a moment later. “Where the hell are you?”
“Hello, big brother. If you touch theJean-ChristopheI will personally behead you.”
“I’ve been trying to reach you damn near a week!” Roman raged.
“I’ve been busy. What’s got your dander up?”
“Busy with what?”
“I’m on vacation,” Ross snarled. “Remember?”
“Where? Africa?”
“Tokyo. What the fuck would I be doing in Africa, Roman?”
“You’re in Tokyo? How’s that different? What business you got over there?”
“Not business. I said vacation.”
“Nevermind that! You better get home, Ross, double-quick. We got a situation.”
“ ‘We’ ?”
“That good-for-nothing son of a bitch Sebastian ran off with our gold,” Roman shouted. Ross realized his brother was genuinely pissed. Not Normal-Roman-Pissed. This was Tsunami, Earthquake, Hurricane level of rage. He made a mental note to buy Gertrude some nice chocolates.
“Ross? You hearing me?”
“Calm down, Roman. What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Find the fucking son of a bitch, what else? Did all the noodles make you slow? I want that bastard back in Florin with a chain around his neck!”
“I’m on vacation.”
Ross imagined how badly Roman wanted to hit him.
“Ross, you have no idea how bad I want to sock you,” said Roman.
