Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
She shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe.”
“Take it easy, CeCe.” I forced myself to let it go even though I wanted to push even harder, to make her tell me what was going on and how I could help. Because if ever there was a woman who needed help, it was CeCe.
“You too, Atticus.”
CeCe had never called me Attie. She left without a backward glance. I wanted to follow her. Knew I should. Something seemed just that little bit off, and I had the feeling she was in trouble. Her body language belied her flippant attitude. I glanced at the table. She’d barely nibbled at her pie, which wasn’t like her. The love affair she had with refined sugar and chocolate was, at times, nearly orgasmic. She savored every single bite.
Yeah. Something was definitely off.
“Kid’s gonna get hurt one day.” Teddy picked up her plate with the pie she’d picked at and shook his head sadly. He was in his early sixties and had run the café as long as I’d been in Riviera Beach. He stayed out of people’s business, never prying or even making much small talk, but he noticed things.
“You know where she works?”
“Works.” He scoffed. “You know as well as I do she’s a hooker. High-end, but she still answers to a pimp.”
“You know who?” I knew I was asking more than I should. The last thing I wanted was anyone knowing how much this girl had piqued my interest. I worked outside of Grim Road, but I was still a club member. Very few women I knew could handle club life.
Our new vice president, Lemon, might be making some fundamental changes, but Rocket was still easing her into everything we did. Some of it -- some of the things I’d done for my country and my club -- were straight out of Hollywood. Most of it was either classified top secret or black ops, not on the books at all. Some things would probably earn me life in prison after that administration was out of office. If I was lucky.
When I told CeCe sometimes the ends justified the means in reference to Crime and Punishment, I hadn’t been speaking metaphorically. I’d killed, but never without a reason I believed justified the killing.
He shrugged. “Word on the street is Ettore Alfonso. He stays on the down low, but I heard he’s mafia. Italian.”
Yeah, I’d heard of Ettore Alfonso. He ran operations on the eastern seaboard in the south, most of it through the Port of Palm Beach. He got his girls to America from various countries through the cruise ships frequenting the port, as well as fencing stolen goods out of the US. The Italian mafia had been relatively quiet since Gotti had been imprisoned, but that was mainly a front. The current boss was keeping things off the radar as much as possible. Alfonso was nothing if not cunning.
“She don’t need to be in that life.”
“Ain’t my business, but I don’t disagree.”
“Do me a favor, Teddy.”
“Yeah?”
“Put anything she orders on my tab from now on. OK?”
“You got it. Someone needs to take care of that girl.”
I nodded my agreement. “I’ll do what I can.” Which meant, I needed to get Crush and Byte on this. I wanted to know anything and everything I could about Cecilia Reyes.
Chapter Two
Cecilia
It took everything I had to not throw something, or release a primal scream. What a fucking day. What a motherfucking day!
Ettore was sending me to an associate he needed something from. I had no idea what and didn’t much care. The less I knew the better in most cases. But this guy was a fucking pig. Every time he needed Marco’s assistance, instead of money the man asked for me. Which meant, once I got to Marco’s, I’d be there at least a week. Every fucking second of it disgusting and degrading.
I had an hour before I had to be there and I needed to calm down or I’d end up worse than humiliated and fucked. Marco could get rough. More than rough. But as long as Ettore got what he wanted, he didn’t care. I was nothing but a piece of flesh to him. Apparently a very expensive piece of flesh since I knew for a fact Marco didn’t get money from his assistance. He got me. The only condition Ettore gave him for his use of my body was that I not be scarred or permanently injured. Marco always pushed it close to the limit. I knew in my heart he’d obliterate that line one day. And there wasn’t a Goddamned motherfucking thing I could do about it.
As was my habit before a job, I went to the outdoor café run by a guy named Teddy. The man was hard working and loved the little café he owned. I’d heard him telling people more than once it had always been a dream of his wife’s to own something like the little restaurant. It was hard work, and he always seemed to be operating very close to the red, but it made him feel closer to her. His only regret was that he hadn’t gotten it up and running before she died.