Bow Down(159)

Arturo held up his hands. “Gentlemen, please. Rafa, is this really true?”

“She’s pregnant with my child, which is why I don’t want you people torturing her.”

Arturo sighed. “I understand that. This is very bad luck.”

“Let me talk to her. I’ll find out what she knows.”

“Arturo, you can’t believe this shit,” Ernesto said.

“Why would the boy push so hard, Ernesto? Because he got the girl pregnant. Don’t be so fucking dense.” Arturo looked back to me. “It’s admirable that you’re protecting her this way. You know, you were close to getting killed there, son.”

“I’m sure,” I said, forcing myself to smile.

“This changes things,” Arturo announced. “Rafa, you may talk to the girl. For now, we do nothing until we have more information.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Ernesto spat.

Arturo ignored him. “Go now before I change my mind.”

Vince and I stood up. “Thank you,” I said.

Vince nodded at the two men. Ernesto looked angry but said nothing.

We turned and left the room. The door shut behind us. Fat Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.

“You dumb fucking asshole,” Vince said softly.

I grinned at him. “You said to be political.”

“I didn’t tell you to lie to fucking Arturo like that.”

“What’s the big deal? This will blow over.”

“This won’t blow over. They’re angry about the Spiders, and she’s the only link. They’re going to want proof.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how to prove it.”

Vince sighed and stared me straight in the eye. “You better get that girl pregnant, Rafa. You better do it fast.”

I watched as he turned and started walking.

I followed him, frowning to myself.

I couldn’t actually get her pregnant. I couldn’t actually do that.

Then again, I wouldn’t mind it. I didn’t want a fucking kid, but I sure as hell wanted to feel what it was like to be inside her so badly I could barely breathe.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I really did need to get Cassidy pregnant to save both our lives.





13





Cassidy





I woke up early, shaken and confused. The messages on my computer kept ringing in my ears, although they were really just green text on a black background.

I couldn’t figure out what was right. I felt trapped in the middle of something, getting pulled in multiple directions. There were the Spiders, the mob, and Rafa. Things were happening around me, but I didn’t even know the players in the game.

I made myself some coffee and sat cross-legged at the kitchen table, sipping the strong black liquid, trying to feel a little more human. I was exhausted and grumpy, and I really didn’t feel like getting back to work, even though I knew I needed to.

As I stared at the wall, willing my life to suddenly improve, my phone started ringing. I nearly jumped out of my chair.

“Hello?” I said, picking it up and answering without looking at the ID.

“Hello yourself.” It was him.

“Rafa. Uh, how’s it going?”

“Better now that I’m talking to you. What are you doing?”

“I’m drinking coffee. It’s, like, nine in the morning.”

“I’m swinging by to pick you up.”

“What? Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“About American Idol.”

I could practically see his cocky grin in my mind. “Funny. When will you be here?”

“Five minutes.”

“I need more time to get dressed.”

“Dress fast, girl. I’m coming for you.”

He hung up the phone. I sighed, tossing mine onto the couch. I took another sip of coffee and had to decide what to do.

I could ignore him and stay where I was, or I could rush and get ready. I didn’t know what he wanted or where we were going.

I got up and went into my bedroom, my mind made up.

I quickly threw on some clothes, a pair of short jean shorts, a cute top, and some white low-top sneakers. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, tossing my hair up into a messy bun.

He knocked on my door almost exactly five minutes later.

“Come in,” I yelled.

I heard the door open and shut. He walked through my apartment, and I watched him appear at the bathroom door.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked, you know.” He smirked at me.

I bit my lip. He looked so damn handsome in his perfectly tailored suit.

“Why so dressed up?” I asked.

“It’s a fucking mob thing. Something like a dress code.”

“You guys have a uniform?”