They help me keep them in check. So far, it works for me. I haven’t had any pushback.
For one, no one wants to deal with my pop or my uncle. You fuck with me, you die. Second, I keep my guys happy.
Everyone in my crew earns well. There’s no need for bullshit when the bag is nice, and mouths are fed. We keep our shit clean.
If you have a need, you come to me, and I fix it. Simple as that, so when someone fucks up, I take it personal. I put my neck on the line for each and every member of my crew.
Fucking up means (a) you don’t respect that or (b) you don’t care. I have zero tolerance for those who don’t care, and everyone better remember to respect me or face the consequences. This is a family.
Family comes first. If you can allow your family to go down out of selfishness, you ain’t shit and never will be. From what Mario is saying in my ear right now, I have a member in my crew who ain’t shit, which means he has to go.
Placing my phone between my shoulder and my ear, I jog down the stairs while rolling the sleeves of my dress shirt up to my elbows.
“Push the drop back to tomorrow night. We can’t afford to blow the operation. I want you to personally replace the bags first thing in the morning,” I bark out orders as I move.
“And what should I do with our friend?”
“I’m on my way out back. Have him waiting for me,” I say and end the call.
The drugs in the car were meant for the Raphael crew. They run a strip club here in Miami. Twice a month, one of my guys drops a duffel bag off to one of the dancers. She then walks that bag right into the club. When she leaves at the end of her shift, she leaves with an identical duffel filled with cash.
My guy goes to see her again to pick up the cash. It has to be the same bag every time. The bags have to match. Some asshole fucked up the duffel bag the coke was loaded into.
I can’t have my guy show up with a random bag for our girl. Now Mario will have to get a new bag into the club and replace the one we have to make a perfect match. All avoidable bullshit.
I run a hand through my hair. I was about to fuck up. This mess stopped me from fucking everything up. I didn’t recruit Oni to get in her pants.
Tomorrow will be different. I’m her boss and she’s an employee with a debt to pay. Nothing more, nothing less.
Get your fucking head in the game, Rico.
Oni
I thinkhe was going to kiss me. If not for his phone ringing, he would have kissed me. I can’t help feeling a little disappointed.
However, I know it’s for the best. Rico oozes danger. I’d be getting myself into so much trouble falling for him. I need to focus on clearing my debt and regaining my freedom.
Now that he’s not here, I can think clearly. I know I don’t need to get any more involved in his world than I already am. My mom has so many regrets.
I allowed myself to get caught up earlier. Now, as I lie here staring up at the ceiling, I know this has to be one summer and one summer only. I punch the bed in frustration.
“Why can’t I stop thinking about him?” I huff into the dark room.
I blow out a breath and sit up. Maybe I should take a walk to clear my head. Or I could go sit out by the pool. It was gorgeous out there.
I slide from the bed in my T-shirt and panties. Since I only plan to dip my toes in the pool for a bit, I don’t bother to put anything else on. I creep out of my room and look down the hall.
I wonder if Rico is sleeping. Chewing on my lip, I think about going to knock on his door. He did say I could come to him if I needed anything.
I poke my lip out as I catch myself having silly thoughts again. Turning, I head for the stairs Rico brought me up. The house seems to be so still.
I keep going until I get to the double doors that head out to the backyard. I pad toward the pool, but something catches my attention. There’s a shed-like structure down the stairs, off to the left of the pool.
It catches my attention because it’s completely dark out here except for the landscape lights, the pool lights, and the light coming from the structure. I turn and head for the stairs. Theylead down to the flat grassy lawn below and a path winds toward the shed.
It’s bigger than what it looked like from above. Making it to the front of the shed, I peek through the crack in the entrance door. My mouth falls open as Rico comes into view, shirtless.
Sweat drips down his back as he stands towering over the guy who’s on his knees, cowering away. I had a feeling there was a sculpted body under that dress shirt and those slacks.
