“What?” he grumbles.
“I texted you!” I hiss. “Cops. Bottom floor.”
“Ah, fuck!” He slams the door shut.
Well, that’s my good deed for the day.
I head back to my apartment and wait. Sure enough, within ten minutes I hear boots in the hall, followed by knocking next door. I pray Pauly had enough time. He’s a drug dealer, sure, but he’s a decent one. His guys have kept me safe for months. No more late-night walks alone. No more being harassed. I’m rethinking my wholestance on criminals. Turns out, they’re useful.
A few hours later, my phone pings.
P-Dawg:Thanks for the heads-up. I owe you one. Dinner tonight? 7?
Me:Sure thing.
∞∞∞
At five til seven there’s a knock at my door. He’s early, as always.
“Just a minute!” I call, fastening an earring.
I hear the lock turn, and the door swings open.
“Lina, darling!” Pauly calls. Damn him and his spare key.
“P-Dawg,” I tease. “Jeremiah!” I smile at his boyfriend.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Out,” Jeremiah grins with a wink.
“Secrets, huh?” I pout dramatically.
“Oh, please. You’ll love it, because you love us.”
They’re not wrong.
Half an hour later, we’re settled in a booth at a nice French bistro. Selling drugs clearly pays well. Wine is ordered. I get chicken scampi.
“I take it the raid went okay?” I ask.
“Thanks to you,” Pauly says. He leans forward, serious now. “That’s kinda what we wanted to talk about.”
He glances at Jeremiah, who takes my hand gently.
“You’re hiding from someone, Lina,” Jeremiah says gently. “We want to help you stop looking over your shoulder.”
My throat tightens. I’ve grown to trust them, but this is dangerous. One wrong word could ruin everything.
“You don’t have to tell us what happened,” Jeremiah continues. “Just give us a name. A description. We’ll keep eyes out. We can’t stand by while you’re alone in this.”
I chew my lip. I really do believe them. I probably shouldn’t.
“Okay.” I swallow. “His name’s Johnny Harrington. Though he might be using a different name now.”
I give them a test. Only the smallest piece. If they’re real friends, it won’t matter. If they aren’t, I’ll know soon enough.
And if Johnny ever comes looking? I’ll know exactly who sold me out.
