Little by little, as I watched and protected her without her knowledge, I slowly bonded with her. I’m not a man who is accustomed to hearing ‘no’ and when it comes to her, the word isn’t even going to enter the equation. It’s simply not an option. I crossed all sorts of moral boundaries to get her and I’ll damn sure cross them to keep her.
Johnnie
The ride into St. Matthews is one I’m very familiar with because, ironically enough, I grew up going to church there. I look over at the cobblestone church as we venture down Frankfurt Avenue and wonder what my pastor would think if he found out I’ve grown up to be a killer.
I pull the mirror down to take one last look at myself and, once again, the realization of how much I look like Rhonda hits me. I tug at the wig one last time.
“You look fine and, yes, it looks real.”
“How did you know I was going to ask that?”
“I’ve spent the last six months tracking your every move, studying every nuance. I know what you’re thinking before you think it, girl.”
I watch as he reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a ring box. “Give me your finger.”
I look down to see him placing a huge wedding set on my hand. “I can’t wear this. It costs more than I make in a year.”
“You work for me now, Mrs. Kensington.” He arches one eyebrow and speaks in a voice that’s more sinister than sexy, “You can wear it and you will wear it, even after this job. I won’t have people hitting on my woman.”
I roll my eyes. “You are unlike anyone I have ever met, Cash Kensington.”
“Okay, your undercover name is Katy Kensington.”
“I hate it.”
“I knew you would,” he chuckles.
“Well, it won’t be hard to remember.”
“That’s why I chose it. Pestering you with a girly name was just icing on the cake. Shall we, Mrs. Kensington?” he asks as he reaches for the door to get out.
“It’s now or never,” I answer, taking his lead.
We barely make it out on the lot before a salesman accosts us.
“We’d like to take a moment to look around and if you could get Steven Taggart to assist us, it would be greatly appreciated.” The poor guy looks forlorn when he looks at Cash’s Armani suit and my wedding ring. I’m sure that’s one of the reasons he insisted I wear it, though I’m sure it’s more about me not getting hit on by other men if they think I’m married.
“Very well,” the salesman answers, making his way around the corner to get his boss.
I walk over to a bright yellow Hummer and immediately Cash shakes his head. “It’s too flashy. You can have it in black; it will work for when we’re doing jobs in Mexico.”
“I didn’t seriously want a car.”
“You need one and it needs to be all terrain.”
When I look up again, I see Mr. Taggart heading in our direction and his eyes are glued on me. My heart is beating so fast that it feels like I can hear the blood rushing through my eardrums.
“What can I help you with today?” He reaches out to shake hands with Cash.
“Well, my wife is interested in this black Hummer and we’d like it with all the bells and whistles. I was referred to you by a gentleman in Mexico, a Jorge Sanchez, before his tragic demise.”
“Yes, I heard about that and though it was tragic, it was, in a sense, well deserved. He crossed the wrong people.”
Steven did exactly as Cash predicted when he mentioned Jorge. Mentioning a major Mexican drug dealer was a definitive way of letting him know that we aren’t just there for a car.
“I’m sorry,” he looks at me as if he’s confused, “you look so familiar.”
“She gets that a lot,” Cash answers for me and I find myself feeling relieved he did. My tongue suddenly feels tied and my stomach is in knots.
We spend some time looking over the car and I actually start to get excited when he hands us the keys for a test drive.
“Are you going to be able to drive this thing, girl?” Cash teases me as we make our way out of the dealership parking lot.
“I’ve driven in third world countries with you. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
We all pile in the car with Steven Taggart in the backseat. I refrain from looking at him in the rearview mirror and only use it for driving purposes. As much as I try to avoid making eye contact with him, I can feel the weight of his stare. He’s looking at me, studying my every move, and it is beginning to make me very nervous. I’m playing a very dangerous game with a very dangerous man.
A chill courses through me as I glance in the rearview mirror and see him coldly eyeing me. His face is set in stone and he looks like he has every intention of killing me at the first opportunity. What the fuck was I thinking when I agreed to this? How could I have deceived myself into believing I could fool him? I look too much like my sister to do that. I purposely made myself look like her just to fuck with his head and now it’s backfiring on me.