Dirty Money Read online

  Something that sounded like choking came out of my throat.

  “Didn’t you know?” My new mentor looked surprised.

  “No.” I tried to understand what he was telling me. “So all these years he still worked for…?”

  “He was on the payroll.” Vito was careful to not say the name. That was a habit I would need to learn.

  “Douche bag,” I spat.

  “Not a fan?”

  “Hated him from the moment I met him.” It was a lie, but it was a comfortable lie, built from years of anger. Anger was good. Anger had the power to override other emotions. “He’s worthless.”

  “Cooper.” Vito put his hand on my shoulder again, briefly. “We agree on so many things.” Apparently, I continued to amuse him.

  *

  I asked the bartender for a scotch. It still reminded me of bile, but I ordered it anyway. DiGiovanni. I was a DiGiovanni. Not in name, just everything else.

  I wore Carissa’s necklace like penance. It bore her husband’s name. It was a lie. I was a traveler, and it had failed to protect me.

  I carried the weapon bestowed upon me, though Reese had never wanted to protect me. Why protect a burden?

  I bore scars that made me one of them. Visible and otherwise.

  I was a liar, a cheater, a thief.

  Yep, I was a DiGiovanni.

  I left more of my dwindling cash supply on the counter and headed for the bathroom. It was dark and crowded enough that no one noticed. At least Vito trusted me enough to not follow me around anymore. That was a plus.

  The bathroom was empty. I ran cold water and dunked my head under the faucet. It was fuckin’ hot in there. I had a headache. I felt dirty in so many ways. Maybe the water would cleanse me.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder and hauled me up. Her fists curled into the collar of my shirt. I was twisted up so my back was to the wall. She stepped up so her body pressed against the length of mine.

  “All right, where’s the gold?”

  I stared into the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. My chest got tight. “I’m doing okay, Reese. How are you? Oh, yeah, today went well enough, but you should know that if this shit gets me killed, my blood’s on your hands.”

  Reese paled. “Fuck you.” Her hands trembled as she shoved me into the wall harder. Ryan stepped forward like he was gonna stop her, but then he didn’t.

  Anger, fear. Those were good signs. It meant they still cared.

  “You’ll just use any excuse to touch me won’t you?”

  She let go and stepped back with a glare.

  “Okay, calm down, guys.” Ryan didn’t smile at me. I really could have used a smile from him. “No one is getting killed.” He waved his hand flippantly. “Now where’s the gold? We can all fly out of here tonight if we hurry.”

  “I’m not getting on a plane with her,” Reese told him without breaking eye contact with me.

  “Good to know we’re back on familiar ground.” I attempted a smile. It didn’t go well. “But it doesn’t matter. Vito doesn’t have the gold.”

  That wasn’t what they were expecting.

  “Funny. Where is it?” Ryan asked.

  “No idea.”

  “You’re fuckin’ with me.”

  “Nope,” I told him.

  “Motherfucker.” Ryan punched the stall door behind him. It shot back, slammed into the wall, and came back at him. He hit it again.

  “You feel better?” Reese asked.

  “No.” Ryan massaged his knuckles and scowled.

  I tried to get their attention again. “Vito wanted me to get the gold for him. From you guys.”

  “Then who has it, genius?” Reese got so pissy when she wasn’t in control.

  “How the fuck would I know?”

  For once, Reese didn’t have an answer.

  “Did you find out anything?” Ryan asked all whiney.

  “Here’s the thing.” Deep breath. “That chick in the photo wasn’t Vito’s.” Reese flinched. “And it was definitely a setup.” The photo had been a good indication of that. “So it was probably someone who knew what I’d do when I was hurt.”

  “Hurt?” Reese didn’t like my word choice. “Fuck you.”

  “That’s not the point.” This was so not the time. “It would also be someone who would know exactly how you would react to a stunt like that.”

  “So who is it?” Ryan.

  “That’s what you guys need to find out,” I said.

  “We don’t need to do shit.” Reese crossed her arms. “You fucked up.” She titled her chin toward me. “You make it right.”

  “I am.” You bitch. “I went and sold my soul to the devil for you, babe. Now I need to lay low and do what he wants.”

  “What?” That tone was deadly on her. “You’re going to keep working for him?”

  “Don’t act so high and mighty, buttercup. It’s not like I’m the only—”

  “Shut up,” Reese cut me off. Interesting. Ryan looked lost.

  “Shit. You never told him?” Fucking with your best friend is a terrible thing to do. This was going to hurt him. Right then I wanted to be anyone but me. Anyone but the asshole I was about to become. But it wasn’t like I could stop myself. He had a right to know.

  “Never told me what?” Ryan asked, all innocence.

  “Don’t do it,” Reese said.

  “Do what?” Ryan was getting pissed. “Tell me what?”

  “She worked for him. Reese worked for Vito.”

  The bathroom went dead silent. Ryan’s face slowly crumpled. Reese took a step toward him then stopped herself.

  “Tell me she’s lying, Reese.” His voice was hoarse. We both heard what he was saying. He was going to believe her over me. All she had to do was lie.

  I wanted to hate him for choosing her. Again. But I couldn’t.

  Reese didn’t say anything. None of us said anything. We just waited for the truth, or for whatever version of it that was coming.

  “Ryan,” Reese said.

  “Just tell me she’s lying,” Ryan commanded. He didn’t stop staring at her, his muddy ash eyes tearing into her. He could see the truth. He just wanted confirmation.

  “I can’t,” she finally whispered.

  Ryan opened his mouth then shut it. Tears already forming in his eyes, he pushed past both of us and into the dark bar.

  “You bitch.”

  “You should have told him.” I neglected to mention that she also should have told me.

  For the second time in my life, she slapped me, and this time I didn’t deserve it.

  “Why are you always hitting me?” I could already feel the burn as my cheek turned red.

  “Because I find myself constantly dissatisfied by you.”

  “Please. I always left you satisfied,” I scoffed.

  “I’ve had better,” Reese sneered back.

  “Bullshit.” Pride hurt, I pushed on. “I’m the best you ever had.” I believed it too.

  “That fantasy life of yours gets richer every day.” Her cool, calm tone really got to me. This was just bantering for her.

  “I guess I would be fantasy material for you.” I could play it like that too.

  “Really?” Reese’s voice shot up so she was shouting again. “I can’t believe you are that full of yourself.”

  “I’m that good, buttercup.” More than anything, I knew arrogance would really get her.

  “How do you imagine that?”

  “Because you’re the only woman I’ve ever made love to,” I snapped. Fuck. Where did that come from? It would have been easier to give her a gun.

  Her dark rimmed eyes became more bruised suddenly. Like three nights of lost sleep and a hangover so bad she was still drunk.

  “I’m going to find my brother.” Reese turned unsteadily. “Don’t come near us ever again.”

  After the last week, pain was becoming far too familiar. It gripped me as Reese stalked away and I turned into its cold embrace. It felt so similar to her.
<
br />   I couldn’t take living on the edge of Reese’s anger anymore. Vito could have the pieces of me. All of them.

  Chapter Seven

  Two Months Later

  “Hey, boss.” A well-muscled, very sweaty guy sat across from me at the rickety camp table. “Cool if I sit?”

  “I’m not your boss.” I told Marco for the thousandth time. “And I don’t think the other guys like you calling me that.”

  “Right, boss.” He tore into the sandwich clutched in his grubby hand. “Don’t let them get to you.”

  “Whatever.” I polished off the rest of my own sandwich without tasting much. I really wanted a beer, but apparently, that wasn’t on the list of necessary supplies.

  “You’re second in command.” Marco shrugged. “No one’s gonna fuck with you.”

  “Can’t be in charge if you’re dead.” Unconsciously, I stroked the butt of my H&K. I barely even took off my holster to bathe. Not that I bathed very often. I was in the middle of a jungle in Oaxaca with twenty guys who hated me, my presence, my authority over them. Naked wasn’t a good thing to be. Neither was unarmed.

  “Why do you think you are sharing a tent with me?” Marco grinned. His perfectly white, though crooked, teeth glinted in the sunlight. “I ain’t gonna let nobody touch you.” Marco was like that. Talkin’ hood one minute. Then college boy the next. Which made me think he was from suburbia.

  I managed half a smile. “And here I thought it was because you were a fag.”

  “Yeah, keep it to yourself.” He kicked me under the table but kept grinning. “You’ll be outta here in no time.”

  “Yeah, once Vito sees fit for me to see real humans again.”

  “Hey, at least you’re with the coolest motherfucker ever.”

  “So now you’re the coolest motherfucker ever?” He nodded. “Really promoting yourself.”

  “Don’t deny it, girl.”

  I widened my eyes in mock surprise. “You think everyone knows I’m a girl?”

  “Shut up, bitch.” His butch accent slipped a little, letting in way more fag than usual.

  “We need to get back to work.”

  “Hard ass.” Marco swallowed the remaining half of his sandwich in one gulp.

  “You wish,” I said.

  He started laughing then choking. His eyes began to tear up. I pounded the flat of my hand against his back even though it was totally unnecessary.

  “Gee, thanks, boss,” Marco said once he had swallowed.

  “No problem.”

  “Cooper,” someone called from behind me. “Hey, Cooper.”

  I turned to see the only other person at camp I actually got along with. “What’s up?”

  “You ready for this?” Jackson ran up, dirty blond dreads swinging around his face. His hand was behind his back, and he was grinning like crazy.

  “Ready for what?”

  “This.” Jackson held up his hand, a sticky green and white bud pinched between two fingers.

  “Please tell me that means what I think it means.” I didn’t believe in God, but I was praying.

  “See how the pistils are kind of deep red?” He pointed at the bud.

  I shook my head. I didn’t know what the fuck a pistil was.

  Jackson continued unperturbed. “And the trichomes are just a little white and creamy instead of clear?” He pointed at something else on the bud.

  I just shrugged. Marco looked lost too, and he’d been there way longer than me.

  Jackson sighed like I was a complete idiot. Fuckin’ geek. “Okay, see the sticky white shit all over this bud?”

  “Yes,” I nearly shouted. “That I can see.”

  “All right. Don’t get too excited ’cause I still need to check some shit out.” I nodded. Seriously. What a geek. “But I think we’re ready to harvest,” he said with a smile.

  That was the best phrase I’d ever heard in my life.

  *

  Dinner that night wasn’t quite as sullen an affair as it usually was. It was still painful, but some of the guys even smiled. At each other. Not me.

  Apparently, when a group of guys run a growing operation together for months at a time, they don’t like it when a new kid shows up who is supposed to be in charge. Especially when the new kid is a twenty-one-year-old chick. Marco was fine with it. The guy I’d replaced had been a tool. I was supposed to be an enforcer, but I had no fucking clue what that meant. I just knew I was supposed to have power, and not one person in camp had an ounce of respect for me. Only Marco and Jackson did. One was my boss and the other was completely incapable of holding conversations with strangers.

  Obviously, this assignment was going well.

  “Cooper. Hey, Cooper,” Jackson whispered from behind me.

  “What?” I whispered back.

  He yanked me into the shadow of the tree he was standing against. “I’ve got first rounds tonight. I’m out till twelve.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I wasn’t sure why I was still whispering.

  “Keep me company?” His pale eyes shone in the firelight. Jackson was afraid of the dark. He never said so, but I was pretty sure. That’s why I always gave him the early shift.

  “You wanna smoke me out?” I could stand to keep the kid company. Weed was just an excuse. In his case, it was a damn good one. Jackson had some bomb shit.

  “Isn’t that the only way to play guard dog?”

  “Makes it way more fun.”

  “Awesome. I’ve got my gear.” He indicated the AK-47 slung over his shoulder. “Wanna start?”

  “Let me grab my shit.” He nodded. “I’ll meet you at the south end.”

  In under five minutes, I met Jackson at the lower end of the campsite. He was leaning against a tree, trying to be cool. But his hands kept fidgeting and he jumped at every noise. Not good when someone’s holding an AK.

  We started the trek around the outside of our first field. He handed me an unlit joint. I passed it under my nose. Damn, it smelled good.

  “Dude, it’s possible that you have the best weed ever.”

  “Thanks.” He might have blushed, but I couldn’t really tell in the sparse moonlight.

  “Seriously.”

  “That means a lot.” He nudged my shoulder. “I know you’re a snob about that shit.”

  “Me? No. My best—” My vision went black for an instant. Nausea rising, I struggled to just keep walking, to keep breathing.

  “Your what?” Jackson glanced over at me.

  “Nothing.”

  He shrugged. “Gonna light that?”

  I nodded. The first lungful was heaven. The promise of calm, of oblivion in one breath. I exhaled, then took another hit. It made me cough. Jackson held out his hand and I gave him the jay.

  “I wish we had booze out here.” Living in the forest without the possibility of booze was a good way to detox. Problem was, I had no desire to sober up. Actually, I was trying to prove that someone could become an alcoholic instead of being born that way.

  “Hey.” Jackson was offended. “This is some bomb shit. My personal stash. I had to go through seven strains before I got to her. She’s perfect. Reduces paranoia, makes you mellow, and horny as fuck.”

  Funny. I didn’t notice being horny after smoking his weed. It was like my clit had died. I just felt nothing. Kind of like the rest of my body. But Jackson didn’t need to know that.

  “I didn’t know stoners could be geeks.”

  “I’m a scientist,” he said. That was a stretch. “Do you realize how many job offers I get?”

  Actually, I did. That was the other reason I was here. To protect business interests. Jackson was almost as unpopular as me. And he was worth a lot more.

  “So why’d you choose this gig? You could be working legally. Or not living in a jungle.”

  “You’re fucking with me.” Jackson looked incredulous. “I have infinite funding. I’m not on any federal watch lists,” he ticked off points on his fingers as he went through the list. “And I’m living in
a forest. It’s a stoner’s dream.”

  “Whatever. Let me hit that.” I took the joint back from him.

  “Oh, now you like my weed?”

  “Get over yourself.” I shoved him lightly. He stumbled.

  “Asshole.”

  We walked in silence after that. Jackson wasn’t much of a talker. Unless you asked him about the genetic differences between two strains of cannabis, of course. We had rounded the southeast corner of the plot when up ahead of us a twig snapped. I clapped my hand over Jackson’s mouth and pulled him into the trees to our right. It happened again. A foot scuffing on the ground. Then voices.

  Technically, we should have drawn and waited. Any intruder was taken back to camp where Marco and I decided whether to kill them. Thus far, we’d escaped such an unpleasant decision. Maybe that was why I ducked into the dark cover of the trees.

  Jackson tried to shrug me off, but I put a finger to my lips before letting go of him. He nodded.

  “It don’t make sense.” The voices got closer.

  “I know it don’t.”

  Great, I recognized the voices. Frank and Niño, the two most outspoken members of my fan club.

  “He lost it bringing that cunt up here,” Niño said.

  I was almost positive I was that cunt. Mostly ’cause I was the only chick at the camp.

  “Stupid move,” Frank said.

  “Bitch ain’t gonna last,” Frank went on. “First sign of weakness and she’s gone.” They were walking right past us now. Only two feet away from where Jackson and I stood mute and trying not to breathe.

  “Once she fucks up, we get to take care of the problem, right?” Niño asked.

  I couldn’t hear a response beyond their laughter. Fuck.

  Next to me, Jackson was vibrating and biting his lip. He watched me, waiting for a cue. I pressed my finger to my lips again and he nodded.

  Frank and Niño were five feet ahead of us now, thirty or so from the corner.

  I crept out of the trees, my hand twisted in Jackson’s shirt. Silently, we crossed the path, praying they wouldn’t turn, and slipped into our forest of cannabis. Jackson stayed at my heels as I ran between the plants, careful not to touch them. My hand was still gripping his shirt as I half dragged him behind me. With my other hand, I cupped the butt of my AK to keep it from bouncing around.