“Do you have the money?”
“This isn’t a drug deal, punk. I don’t have it on me. It’s in my Porsche.” What an idiot. As if a hundred grand would fit neatly in my trousers.
“But you have it, right?”
“Yes, I have it. But I need proof you’ve seen her. Indisputable proof,” I said in a firm voice.
Those women and kids were still watching me. I scratched the top of my hands and blinked my eyes. If I didn’t get my next fix, I would explode before finding my sister.
“Here.” He handed me a picture. “Took it last Friday.”
I removed my sunglasses to get a better look. I couldn’t believe she dyed her hair. “Is that Andy Garcia with her?” The image wasn’t large and the two people, one being my sister, weren’t zoomed in enough for me to be sure.
“Um, I don’t know his real name. He’s El Jefe to me.”
I turned my gaze at the dude. “Are you a King?”
“Was a prospect until he threw me out.”
“That sucks.” I smiled, feeling confident he wasn’t lying about my sister.
“Yeah, it does. Now I have nowhere to go. I need the money, man, for a fresh start.”
I bet he did. “Follow me. I’ll get the money.”
“Cool.” He snapped his fingers and stood. The idiot probably thought he hit the lottery. Pathetic bastard.
“People are so nosy around here,” I told him. “Look at them over there staring at me.”
That was Mexicans for you. They didn’t know how to mind their own damn business. They should know I was an Avila and show me the respect I deserved. Even the kids were acting like I was an I.C.E agent.
Like no kid, I’m not cuffing your mom and hauling her away.Couldn’t they tell I was Latino? Not from Mexico, but my family had immigrated from Spain. There were a few generations of my lineage in America.
Still, why wouldn’t they stop staring at me?
“Nobody’s watching you.” The dude looked at me funny.
“Yes, they are.” I pointed to help him see what I meant. “Stop staring at me!” I shouted at the onlookers.
“Hey, man. You feeling, okay? Need a doctor? Want me to call a friend?”
I glared at the punk wanna-be biker. He was such a waste of air, but not for long.
“Come on. My car is over here.”
15
Silvia
There was a weird vibe in the club today. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Everyone seemed distracted. Even Mama Virgie appeared serious while cooking up enough food to feed an army. Not that I minded. She was an amazing cook.
The club girls busied themselves, but I couldn’t tell what they were doing. It almost seemed like they were taking inventory of stuff for some unknown reason.Weird.
But what bothered me most was I hadn’t heard from Andy yet. I would have thought he would’ve called by now. It was approaching eleven. Noon would arrive before I knew it.
I had expected to hear from him when he got on the road. He knew I would be up by eight in the morning, eager to talk to him. Maybe they were getting a late start because they had a late night.
Last night, I’d overheard some of the sweet butts laughing about how the guys always stop at a strip club in Oregon and Washington before arriving in Canada. Then they repeated their stops. Letty had saideveryone knows bikers can’t go more than a day without sex.