Grunting, Miguel rumbled something in Spanish that I figured wasn’t very complimentary.
“Drive carefully. Now, put Kitty back on the phone.”
Biting my lip, I accepted the device again but only because I recognized his voice. “Stan?”
“I promise you’ll be fine, okay?”
I shot the floor a dopey smile. “Okay.”
“Now, come to me,gattaredda.”
I could literally feel the heat in my cheeks. “See you soon, Stan.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Raisin chided as I ended the call. “I’m the only sister with any sense!”
“Can we make a move?” Miguel finally holstered his weapon. “I have to get someone in to clear this mess up.”
“Don’t make out like this is our fault. You didn’t need to shoot him. I was going to bite his ear off.”
Justlike Daddy told me.
Inside, I cackled.
On the outside, I stared at Miguel, who spluttered, “You were going to bite his ear off?”
“Doesn’t come with a murder onecharge.”
“You’re not in America now,” Miguel reminded us, which wasn’t the least bit reassuring.
So I warned, “I’ll bite more than your ears off if you hurt my sisters.”
As he threw up his hands, declaring, “I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” Neev whispered in my ear, “What kind of reward are we talking about here?”
TWENTY
STAN
Knowing that I wouldn’t relax until I set eyes on Kitty, I stormed from one side of Martinez’s throne room to the other.
It spoke a lot of our ‘friendship’ that he didn’t stop me.
If anything, it confirmed that this wouldn’t lead to any of us being shot in the head and thrown into the Gulf of Mexico.
Reassuring.
When Martinez joined me in my pacing, I barely refrained from glowering at him as he passed me my phone, especially once I realized I’d received a text from Luigi.
Luigi: This warehouse, boss, they have a lot of people coming in and out of it. Need me to track the numbers? Get one of the guys to put names to faces?
Well aware Martinez read over my shoulder, I didn’t bother shielding the screen, simply typed out:
Me: Se
“A man of few words, interesting.”
When I went to tuck my phone into my pocket, Martinez clucked his tongue and held out his hand. I scowled at him but gave the damn thing to him.
“You’re not as well controlled as your siblings,” he commented a few laps in.
