“Can’t help it.”
“I was wondering what that lump was.”
“You were feeling sweet, sweet cash.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you really think I’ll need it?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Just be ready. Can you promise me?”
“Fine,” I said. “I promise.”
He nodded, satisfied. “Now I guess we wait.”
I held my hand up to shield my eyes. I checked my watch and frowned. It was a few minutes past one already, and the Spiders hadn’t shown up yet.
I found myself looking around the crowd, wondering if any of them were the Spiders. I watched a young mom playing with her little baby and wondered if she had another life. I watched an old man buying a hotdog, suspicious of his oversized jacket.
Everyone around me had become a suspect. Still, that didn’t do much to cut into my bad mood.
“What do you think of him?” I asked, nodding at the old man.
“Killer, no doubt,” Brooks said.
“Really?”
“Look at how he moves. Killer, with magic knees.”
“You mean titanium knees. He’s at least eighty years old.”
“He’s been in the game forever.”
I laughed. “What about her? The girl with the pink hair.”
“Oh,” he said, nodding. “Now she’s dangerous. Watch out.”
“Why?”
“She’s got pink hair, tattoos, and a skateboard. That girl might not be a killer, but she’s the most dangerous person here.”
I couldn’t help but laugh again as we imagined fake scenarios for a few more people in the crowd. It felt comfortable laughing and joking with him like this, almost as if we weren’t about to meet a deadly gang about my future.
I felt myself feeling comfortable with him. Just a few days ago, Brooks was a terrifying stranger who I was convinced wanted to rape and murder me. Now, though, I trusted him more than anyone else in the world. I knew he had my best interests at heart, even if I didn’t always agree with him.
Brooks was a killer, a dangerous man, but he cared about me, made me laugh, made me feel things I’d never felt before.
A few minutes later, Brooks’s phone began to ring. He answered it.
“Yeah?” A short pause. “Where?” He clenched his jaw. “Fine. See you shortly.”
He hung up the phone.
“Come on,” he said, standing. “We’re going inside.”
“What?”
“Apparently the Spider is inside.”
I got up and followed him as we wove our way through the crowd. He moved like a panther stalking his prey, lithe and strong. I couldn’t help but marvel at him as he dodged past the tourists and their screaming kids.
We got in line and waited. It moved pretty fast, and soon enough we had our tickets. I followed him as he moved along, his eyes constantly darting around. I could see that he was assessing everything around him, wondering what the angles were, how we could escape. I should have felt nervous, but all I felt was excitement coursing through my veins.
I’d never done something like this before. I felt like a spy in a movie or something. Without Brooks, I would have been lost, alone, and terrified, but with him, I felt incredibly alive.
We wove our way through exhibit after exhibit. From dinosaur bones to renaissance paintings, the museum seemed to have everything. I wanted to stop and stare at the art, to feel and experience it, but we had something more important to do. Maybe after we could wander through the halls together and I could figure out what made this man tick.
Finally, we reached the back of the building. There weren’t any other people here as we stepped into a room dedicated to voodoo art and culture. Shrunken heads, magical runes, small statues in various shapes, bundles of incense, and more dotted the walls and the glass cases.
We stopped and Brooks looked around. “This is the spot,” he said.
“Think they’re late?”
“I don’t know.” I saw him reaching slowly toward his pants where his gun was hidden.
“Hello, Brooks.”
We both looked up, surprised. A thin woman stepped into the room, smiling. She was beautiful, with thick dark hair, large dark eyes, and light, flawless skin.
“Holy shit,” Brooks said.
“I prefer Louisa,” the woman responded.
“What’s happening?” I asked Brooks softly.
“This is Louisa Barone. She’s the daughter of the mafia’s head boss.”
She smiled and nodded. “Yep. That’s right.”
“So you people know then?” he asked. “Why would you come here and not Dante?”
“You misunderstand, Brooks. I’m the person you’re here to meet with.”