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I shouldnotfeel so fucking flattered.
We slip inside the store. Everything is quiet, but I can hear voices from the back room, and I gesture for Julian to stay behind me. He gives me a silentare you an idiot, of course I’m going to let you go firstlook, and then pulls the balaclava fully over his face. We move through to the front of the store, staying close to the walls and avoiding the light. I reach for the door handle to the main room, but before I can grab it, Julian bursts through without warning, calling out a cheery, “Hello, there!”
My adrenaline spikes as Julian saunters into the room. I follow closely behind, if only to make sure the PacSyn guys realize they have more to deal with than one dumbass in a balaclava.
The room is dimly lit, and only two of them are there, huddled around an old wooden crate.
“Oh, shit, it’s the Lion,” one of them mutters.
Predictably, they pull out their guns. Julian laughs, a low and dangerous sound that crawls up my spine. “Leo,” he says, voice wheedling, “come on, now. This is definitely one of those absolutely necessary times, isn’t it?”
“The fuck do you want, Bernardi?” one of them demands. He sounds afraid.
He should be.
“Cool it,” I snap, mostly at Julian. “We’re not here to kill anyone.” Else. “We’re just here for what’s owed.”
“Gentlemen, you have something we want,” Julian says. He puts his hands behind his back and wanders over to them. “May I?”
The PacSyn guys exchange glances, bewildered.
Julian doesn’t wait for a response. He just looks into the crate. Then he sighs. “Just once,” he says, sounding disappointed, “just once, I’d like to be surprised by PacSyn. But tonight is not that night.” He reaches in and pulls out a brick of heroin. “You really are the most predictable little urchins,” he says in a sing-song voice. “Aren’t you?”
The PacSynners just don’t know what to make of him. Frankly, neither do I, but one thing’s for sure: I’m glad he’s on my side.
Or pretending to be.
“Who’s this psycho you brought with you, Leo?” one of them asks.
“Excuseyou, I’ve never been officially diagnosed,” Julian says.
“Forget him,” I say. “Let’s get to it. I want the money you owe us for the docks.”
The PacSyn guys look nervous. They’re at a disadvantage here. They can’t whack me without bringing down the whole Bernardi boot on their face.
“I’m not looking for a fight,” I say. “Just the cash.” I take a step forward. “Why don’t you just settle up peacefully? Nobody needs to get hurt. But they will, if you don’t play this smart.”
“And it will be you,” Julian pipes up. “Youwill be the ones getting hurt, just so we’re clear. Just like Vinnie Esposito.”
The atmosphere drops about ten degrees. There are a lot of rumors going around about what happened to Vinnie, and I don’t like being pulled into it.
Still, the PacSynners glance at each other before nodding in agreement. One of them reaches into his pocket—slowly, other hand held up in surrender—and pulls out a wad of cash, handing it to me without another word.
“And for making us go out of our way,” Julian says, spinning the brick around in his hands, “we’ll take this as well. You can keep what’s left,” he says firmly, as they start looking unhappy about it. “And you’ll make sure the Bernardis down at the dock get their cut next week.”
“Who the fuckisthis clown?” one of the PacSyn guys asks again, looking at me.
“I’m the clown who’s going to leave your insides piled up on Chuckles Moran’s doorstep if you fuck up again,” Julian informs him in a cheerful tone that makes the PacSynner blink. “But I’m sure you understand how things will work from now on. Yes?”
They both grunt agreement, and Julian turns to leave the room, back the way we came. I back out slowly, ready for any sudden movements. Julian pauses in the doorway. “By the way, I left you a present out back. A little scavenger hunt, if you will. First clue: look in the bushes.”
We make it out.
We make it out and we run like hell back to my bike, but I save my breath for cursing Julian out until we’re halfway down Sunset, and his hand isn’t just rubbing over my crotch, it’s pulling open my jeans, deep in my underwear, stroking me in a casual hand job that I can’t help but respond to. My anger melts away as Julian’s hand works me. I grip the handlebars tighter as he hollers in my ear, “You love it, don’t you? You love it when I touch you like this.”
I can’t deny it. I’m addicted to the way he touches me, to the way he makes me feel. I want him, despite almost fucking up with PacSyn, despite the fact that I don’t trust him at all, despite everything.
I pull over as soon as I can, into an underground parking lot, and I pull him off the bike and into the darkness under the stairwell. “My, my,” he gasps, as I pull at his clothes, and he grabs my hands. “I’m really not that kind of girl, Leo.”
