Page 72 of Tito

“I don’t…maybe.” She took a step away and crossed her arms. “I don’t know.”

“Wait right here,” I said in a comforting tone. “I’ll be right back.”

I scanned the living room. Illuminated by nothing more than the moonlight, Tito was sitting at the breakfast table. He looked in my direction.

“We’ve got a...” I cleared my throat. “We have an issue.”

“Internet dating has it’s downsides,” he said in a dismissive tone. “That’s for sure.”

I’d told him a few funny—and not so funny—stories about Mel’s botched dates. I forced a sigh. “There’s a guy in her house that might be dead,” I blurted. “It sounds like…I think it was an accident.”

“Shit.” He stood. “Who knows about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did he drive there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Apartment complex, or house?”

“Huh?”

“Does she live in an apartment complex or a house?”

“House.”

Seemingly unaffected by the potential presence of a dead man, Tito’s questions continued to come as if they were rehearsed.

“Residential district?” he asked.

“What?”

“Are they any commercial businesses near? Restaurants? Bars? Things like that?”

“No, she lives in the ghetto in El Cajon. Why?”

He pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call. While I stood nervously in wait, he began to pace the floor. After a few seconds he turned away and cleared his throat.

“I’ve got a trip in mind,” he whispered. “Remember Bakersfield? Yeah. You up for another one like that? No. A friend of a friend. Sounds good. Hate to ask, but can you bring the red one? Yeah, bring her. You can pick me up at home. Thanks, Brother.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. The code words and nonchalant attitude toward the situation made me feel uneasy. “Not the first time this has happened, is it?”

“I’ll need her address and her house keys.” He put the phone in his pocket. “And, as much information as you can about what happened—”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll be taking my bike home. Someone’s picking me up there.”

“Braxton?” I asked.

“No.” He stepped in front of me. “Someone else.”

“What are you…” I muttered. “How will you—”

He touched my shoulder. “I’ll tell you as much as you think you want to hear. Reggie. But. It’s best if you know nothing.”

I wondered who was picking him up but knew not to ask. I swallowed against the bile that wouldn’t go away. “What if…what if the guy…if he’s…you know?”

He kissed me. “I need to talk to Mel for a minute and go, Reg. Everything will be just fine.”

“Okay.”

Five minutes later, he kissed me again, on the way out the door.

As the sound of his motorcycle faded into the distance, I realized the man who was on his way to clean up the mess was my father’s archrival.

His nemesis.

At the same time, he was Mel’s savior.

I stood somewhere in the middle, unsure of which way to go. Tito once told me to face my fears.

That’s exactly what I was doing.