Speak Low (Speak Easy 2)

“I figured you’d tell him.” Joey’s voice was devoid of any emotion, but I felt the sting of his words as if he’d slapped me. “And I had a feeling it might be tonight.”

“Joey, please,” I began.

“Get her out of here,” he said.

“Why?” Enzo asked. “If all you want to do is make a deal, why not let her stay? She’s hardly going to run away in her nightgown.”

Oh God—I’d forgotten I was in my nightgown, and barefoot. Jesus, what Joey must think! And Angelo—my face burned with shame that a strange man held me so close in my pajamas. Frantically, I wondered why Enzo wanted me to stay. Did he think they’d be less likely to shoot him if I was in the boathouse?

Or did he want me where he could see me?

This was a huge problem with us—we were rarely sure whose side the other was on. My hands shook, and I tightened them into fists to keep them still. “Let me stay.” I forced myself to sound defiant. “I won’t be any trouble. I was trying to do as you asked and set up a meeting, Joey, but he insisted on seeing for himself if the drugs were here.”

“Of course he did.” Joey never took his eyes from Enzo. “He probably wouldn’t have met with me otherwise.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have.” Enzo sounded way too self-righteous for someone with two guns pointed at him. Silently I pleaded with him to show some humility. “You fucked up a huge deal for me.”

“Tough luck, I guess,” Joey said.

Angelo spit on the boathouse floor, and my stomach turned over at the splat. “You ready to talk business or you want to cry about the past?”

I braced myself for an angry reaction from Enzo, but he stayed calm as he regarded Angelo. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Shut your mouth,” Joey ordered. “We came to make a deal. You interested?”

“Can I put my arms down?”

“Be my guest. But stay the fuck where you are.”

Enzo lowered his arms. “What’s the deal you’re offering?”

“You have a buyer lined up for this?” Joey jerked his head toward the trunk next to him. It was large and rectangular, the kind used on steamer ships to make a long voyage.

“I might.”

“We make the sale together,” Joey said. “I’ll deliver the product.”

“And what do I get out of this deal?”

“A cut of the profit.”

“What kind of cut?”

“I think thirty percent’s fair.”

“I think you’re fucking crazy.”

“I could just kill you, you know.”

A high-pitched sound escaped my throat. Neither Enzo nor Joey looked at me.

“Killing me won’t get you what you want.”

Joey shrugged. “But it might be fun.”

“Please, stop,” I begged. Angelo tightened his grip on me, and I whimpered in protest.

“Let her go,” Joey said.