I shrug, turning the machine off. “He doesn’t know when to fucking stop.”
“And you believe him? He got under Angel’s skin, too. Help me move him.” Striding out of the room, he comes back with a hospital bed.
After getting his heavy ass on the bed, I leave Rocco to it. I haven’t seen Easy since we took the place. Now she knows the truth. I know she will tell me where Saban is.
“Don’t even think about it. You are out of control.” Angel’s cold answer heads me off the moment he sees me.
He’s bristling like a rabid wolf, ready to protect his wife. The only difference is he has his family safe. I don’t even know where to look for Saban.
“Look, I know how you feel — better than anyone.” He eyes me like he figures I’m about to attack him. He’d be right, gotdammit.
“All I need is for her to point me in the right direction.” Conceding I’m not in the frame of mind to see his little wife, who just gave birth to his son, I can’t do anything but let out a frustrated sigh.
“Go check out his office. I’ll talk to Easy. I know they made contingency plans.” Knowing he wants to get rid of me before she shows up to check on her worthless cousin, I head towards Oz’s office. He’s right and knows me better than anyone except the person I’m hunting for. The smallest thing could have me taking out my knives and ripping out that motherfucker’s throat.
I’m in his office well into the night when I find a lead of Saban’s whereabouts.
“Any luck?” Padre’s head perks up when he hears my low whistle.
He came in to help me when the others went to pack to leave. Angel is taking his little family back to the States. We’d already shipped our fallen home and compensated their families. Now, only those in our core group remain.
“Yeah, I see where Oz took possession of several villas throughout the continent. Bamako, Mali; Nairobi, Kenya; Accra, Ghana; Monrovia, Liberia — Dakar, Senegal. Obviously to send us chasing after false leads, or perhaps Easy and Saban couldn’tdecide where they were going to end up.” I wave the ledger I’m holding, smirking.
“But he made a mistake?” Comes the inquiry as Padre makes his way over to my side. Tracing a line on the leasing paperwork, looking up at him, I smile, “You could say that.”
Pointing to the only residence that is above a shop.
Chapter eight
CAPTURED
SABAN ~THREE MONTHS LATER ~ DAKAR, SENEGAL
“Ihave a beautiful grilled fish.” Looking skeptically at the catch, Amadou’s holding high in my shop. A definite violation if I were in the states but I don’t allow myself to think about my past. It will never be safe for me to go stateside again.
Pushing that stray thought aside, I focus on the wiry young man standing proudly in front of me, holding up his catch in swim shorts, with a chafe-resistant surfing shirt tied around his waist, and sandals.
I’ve gotten pretty good at bartering over the few months since settling in the seaside town of Dakar. I’ve learned to drive the hardest of bargains for my tattoos. While still allowing potential customers to think they are getting a deal. I don’t need his fish, but I have to say his fresh catch is far superior to what I can find in the market. Not that it’s not good — only Amadou’s brings his as soon as it’s caught right after he grills it himself. Nothing tastes better. He’s spoiled me from having it any other way.
“I’m telling you right now that’s not going to cover the rest of the tattoo.”
“I’ll bring you part of my catch for the next month,” he smiles, beautiful bright teeth gleaming, knowing he’s got me.
He’s one of the most prolific fishermen in this area. I have to say it’s a good bet, and I don’t have to worry about having a fresh catch during that time.
“If I get to eat it before I start, it’s a deal.” Slapping my hand into his when he nods, I smile, eyeing the steam wafting from the foil-covered food.
Turning, I ready my tools to prepare to finish the tattoo of a shark Amadou claims he fought off last year. After hearing many tales of survival from the guys who think Americans will believe any tall tale of the bush or sea, I have to say Amadou’s may be true. I’ve seen the markings the beast left when I did his tattoo.
“Want to go out when you finish?” It’s early afternoon. This piece is going to take me a couple of hours, if not longer. Knowing that, I’m going to be tired — not exhausted. Just thinking of having to go up to my loft above the shop to face the rest of the night alone sends dread roiling through my mind.
Taking the fresh veggies out of the small fridge where I keep them. I throw together a little salad. Handing over the fish, he watches intently as I make a plate for us both. He didn’t have to ask. I know he came straight from work after giving his dad most of the catch for the afternoon rush of patrons for their family’s fish stand.
“Yeah, you think Bennie got that?” Taking the plate, he shootsyou already know the answer to that look.
“Yeah, but you need to pay with cash only. He’s telling everyone you’re going to be his woman.” Amadou scoffs through mouthfuls of food, his dislike of the other man palpable.
“Listen, I’ve known men way worse than him, but—” Raising my hand before he jumps all over me. “I’ll be careful.” Knowing he’ll probably change his mind if I say the wrong thing.
