“Where?” I say, setting her down.
She points to a door set into a nondescript brick wall. Above the door there’s a green plaque decorated with Chinese characters, along with the words ‘Jade Palace’ written in English. “In there.”
I shake my head. “Bad idea.”
“Why?”
“The Triads have a foothold in Sacramento. A big one,” I say, leaving out where my surety comes from. Adriana doesn’t need to know that I gambled with more than a few of them, and when I was on a winning streak, more than a few of them suggested I look up someone named ‘Maoren’ if I wanted the purest heroin in Sacramento. I’m ashamed to admit that there was a not-insignificant part of me that was tempted. “And that looks like it has ‘Triad den’ written all over it.”
She grabs my wrist, tugs and limps toward the door. “Trust me.”
“Trust you? I don’t. Look, the only fucking thing I’m sure about you is that I want to save your life because you’re Vanessa’s sister. Everything else — fuck, I trust you about as much as I trust Ruslan or any of his men.”
She says something. What, I’m not fucking sure — it’s a mess of tones and sounds and it makes me blink. “I’ve got this. I know what I’m talking about. We’ll be safe in there.”
“Do you still want to kill me?”
“Of course. More than ever since you threw me into that dumpster. You look and smell like shit, by the way.”
“The looking like shit is genetic. The smelling like it, well, so do you.”
Which is partly true, but somehow, she doesn’t smell that bad. Or look that bad, even having just crawled out of a dumpster. In the right light, she almost looks…
What the fuck am I thinking?
“So what? Listen, you can stand out here all you want, covered in shit and looking like an asshole, but I’m telling you: I know what I’m talking about. Going in here is our best option. Just shut up and let me handle this.”
“Fine. Lead the fucking way.”
Chapter Seven
Adriana
I hope I’m not too out of practice. If I’m right, I’ve found us somewhere safe. If I’m wrong, well, I’ll be seeing my sister soon enough. My hand hesitates over the heavy door to the Jade Palace for only a moment before I rap my smelly knuckles against it.
A small slat slides open in the door, and a pair of suspicious eyes glances at me, narrows, and then a curious and angry voice filters through the door. “What do you want?”
I hesitate. Ready words on my tongue, feel nerves flutter in my stomach, and end up questioning everything I’m about to say. Not what Iwantto say, buthowto say it.
“You smell. You look bad. Terrible. Are you going to just stand there all night, or are you going to tell me why you’re knocking on our door?” says a voice on the other side of the door to the Jade Palace. An elderly woman, from the sound of it. “This is a private social club, not a homeless shelter.”
“This was a fucking mistake. Let’s go. I’m sure we can find somewhere else to hide out,” Ricky whispers behind me.
But fuck him and his doubting. Even if this old woman turns us away, I’m going to show him that, at the very least, I know what I’m talking about.
Time to leap in with both feet forward.
“May we come inside?” I say in halting Mandarin.
The older woman blinks. “First tell me: why are you here?”
“My ugly friend,” I stumble over the word. Not that I don’t know how to say ‘friend,’ but that I have no fucking inclination to actually call Ricky a friend, yet I don’t know the Mandarin word for ‘future revenge-killing victim,’ “and I are in trouble. Some men tried to rob me. We barely escaped, but fell into some trash. May we come in just for a short while just to rest and clean up?”
A doubtful moment passes. Then another. Finally, there’s the metallic sound of a lock clicking and the door slides open, revealing a woman barely five feet tall, with stooped shoulders, and a soft, sly smile.
“Come inside,” she says in perfect English, her eyes running over Ricky with a mix of approval and disapproval. After an abrupt gesture, she turns and walks away.
I follow her down a dark hallway lined with serene paintings of landscapes, photos of families and groups celebrating, and several banners decorated with golden embroidered symbols. Ricky walks behind me, head turning on a swivel, as if he expects dangerous elderly women to jump out from every shadow.
