I glance down. "I know what I'll be asked to do."
"Do you?"
I turn my face away. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out."
"And are you prepared to give everything you have to Madam Karina? Because that's what happens out there in those guesthouses."
Cain runs his hand over his shorn hair and grits his teeth, his jaw working. "Domino doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to."
"Like hell she doesn't." Angie stands up.
When Cain spots the anger on Angie's face, he returns to the kettle. But neither of us misses his next words. "How would you know, anyway?"
Angie sucks in air. Opens her mouth to say something. Closes it. Opens it again. "Because I worked in that goddamn house. If you ain't figured that out yet, you're dumber than I thought."
Cain stops what he's doing, and I remain motionless.
Angie sucks on her cigarette, ashes falling onto the floor. "I worked for her then, and I work for her now." Her voice drops an octave. "It's harder than you think to get out. It's like the Sicilian Mafia." She makes a gun with her free hand and fires off a round into my chest. "Bang, bang."
When she sees the look on my face, she waves away the implication. "It's not like she kills you. Jesus, stop going so dark with it."
"So what does she do then?" I ask, growing frustrated. Cain is still staring at Angie like he can't believe she was ever one of Madam Karina's girls, but I'm not sure it's that big of a surprise. She carries herself like she's ancient, but she could have worked in that house as few as ten years ago.
I could see it, Wilson says, nodding. She's got spice, ya know?
Angie's eyes travel to a large window and, slowly, her pupils begin to dilate. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. That's Eric's car. You have got to get out of here. Now!"
Chapter Forty-Three
Veiled Threats
In the distance, a sedan rumbles down the road toward us. It's loud and persistent and a sad shade of gold that brings shame upon its kind. I can't make out who's driving, but Angie is hysterical, shoving us toward the door and yelling to move faster.
The kettle screams from the kitchen, and Cain turns like he's going to take care of it.
"What are you thinking?" Angie roars. "Get out. Go!"
I grab Cain's arm, and we stumble down the trailer steps. Her dogs shoot out the door and nearly take us down. Barking like mad, the two canines race down the dirt road toward Eric's car. The driver taps the brakes when the dogs get within a few feet of the vehicle.
It's all the time we need.
Cain lunges into the car, and I dive in after him.
"Why is it so bad that we're here?" I yell as Cain throws the car into reverse.
"Because they'll figure out what we're doing. Asking questions."
Cain backs up just enough and then slams on the accelerator. We zip past Angie's trailer, but not before I spot her running.
"Stop," I tell Cain.
He hits the brakes, and a second later Angie's face appears on my side of the car. I roll down the window, glancing in the rearview to see Eric cruising closer.
Angie touches my cheek, and I'm surprised by her gentleness. "Do what the madam says, just the way she says it, and you'll be okay."
When I don't respond, anger tightens her features.
"Promise me!" she demands.
Startled by her outburst, I say, "I promise, Angie."
She looks at Cain and waves him away.
That's all the permission he needs. Cain lays on the gas, and we zoom away, leaving that blasted gold sedan in the distance.
It isn't until we're several miles down the road before I ask the question that's haunted me since we sped away. "He wouldn't hurt her, would he?"
Cain shakes his head. "No way."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I'd kill him if he did."
Just like that. Not a drop of fear or hesitation in his voice. No lowered head or quiet words.
Because I'd kill him if he did.
Cain may keep to himself and let things lay when he shouldn't. But I can tell he's gaining confidence and with it, the courage to fight when something is wrong. Maybe the change is me. Maybe he just needed someone in his corner again.
Am I in his corner?
I study him as he propels us toward Madam Karina's home. Those powerful arms that made me feel safe when lightning tore the sky. That seldom smile that warms my insides. The thing he says to me over and over: I wouldn't be afraid of you, no matter what you did.
You're falling for him, Wilson whispers.
I fall for no one, I respond.
Wilson chuckles softly. You fall for everyone, my rose.