Dirty (RAW Family 2)

Her eyes narrow at me. “You got a badge I can see?”

Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my immaculate fake police badge and ID and hand it to her. She sighs. “Yeah. She was in here earlier today.”

Ling cuts in, “How long ago?”

The waitress shrugs. “Around two.”

Fuck. That’s over four hours ago. She’s long gone by now.

Ling whispers, “Damn.”

The waitress brightens. “Y’all need to talk to Jimmy. I think she had car trouble, so she left her car with him. I saw her take his loaner.”

Praying my thanks to the car trouble gods, I ask patiently, “Loaner, huh? What type of car?”

“A blue Cadillac. A classic.” Looking out past me, she points, “There he is right now. If you want to catch him, you better run. He won’t be back till morning.”

A big, burly guy with a beard and grease-covered overalls steps into his truck, already heading out. I call out to the waitress, “Thanks for your help. Much appreciated. Oh, and if anyone else comes through looking for her, don’t give them any information. For her safety. You understand.”

I pick up pace as the engine starts, breaking out in a dead run. I bolt to the truck, and just as it starts to take off, I stop in front of it. The breaks squeal and the truck jolts. Jimmy’s out of the car and yelling in a second flat, “You lost your fucking mind, son, or you just got a death wish?”

Breathing deeply, I shake my head, lifting my police ID and the photos of Alejandra. “You seen this woman?”

But Jimmy doesn’t even look to the pages. He glares at me, lip curling. “Nope.”

Oh, yeah. Jimmy really doesn’t like me.

I hold the photos out and try once more. “You sure?”

He doesn’t flinch. “Sorry. Can’t help you.”

My jaw tightens. I’m about to set this man on his ass when a soft, feminine voice sounds by my side. “Excuse me, sir. Any information you have on Alejandra Gambino’s whereabouts would be much appreciated. We know she was here. We know she had car trouble. We know she spoke to you, sir.”

I look down at Ling, shocked and surprised that she can pull off sweet so well, when sour is her specialty. Jimmy looks down at Ling’s soft face and mutters, “She had car trouble. She’s gone.”

Ling steps forward. “Where? Where’d she go?”

Jimmy looks torn.

I help make his decision. “There are people coming after her. They will find her. If we find her first, we’ve got a chance of keeping her safe.”

Jimmy bites the inside of his cheek, at war with himself. Ling places a hand on his forearm and implores, “Please. Help us help her.”

Placing his hands on his head, he blows out a breath, answering on an exhale, “She’s at the Sunflower Inn a block away. It’s my dad’s place. She’s in room three, under Jane Smith. She won’t answer to anyone who doesn’t know that name. That was the deal.”

Relief. Pure relief courses through me. I hold out my hand to him. “Thank you, sir.”

Jimmy shakes my hand and pins me with a stare. “Keep her safe.”

Ling smiles at Jimmy before we turn and make our way to the car. Ling already has the address for the Sunflower Inn on her phone. “Yep. Just a block away.”

A block away.

I don’t know whether I feel elated or dismal.

Maybe I feel a little of both.

The warm spray washes over me as I cry. Leaning my head on the cool tile, I sob quietly.

What am I going to do now?

I’ve never had to think about myself. Someone else has always done it for me. First, my mother, then my father, lastly Dino. The only thing I really needed to do myself was make sure I was well behaved, a good daughter, a humble wife.

Who am I?

Alejandra Castillo Gambino is dead.

Not that she ever really lived.

Maria Gambirella. Who is she? What is she like? Is she funny and sweet? Maybe she’s smart and sassy. This is my chance to be someone else, someone I would want to be.

I sniffle and lift my face into the spray, washing my distress down the drain along with the sudsy water. Wiping my hands down my face, I turn off the water and wring out my hair, wrapping the long length in a towel turban and drying off. I dress quickly in my only bra, a white, delicate silky blouse, and black yoga pants.

In my haste to get away from the house, I didn’t really check what I was packing. I don’t really have anything that matches. But that’s okay. I’ll fix that tomorrow with a wad of cash from my duffle.

Having had my hair wrapped up for a while now, I unravel it. It falls in long, messy strands down my back, the damp tickling my skin.

A knock at the door sounds.

My body stills with sudden fear. I call out hesitantly, “Y-yes?”

A female voice calls out, “Slippers and coffee for Miss Smith, courtesy of reception.”

My body goes limp. Laughing to myself, I run a hand over my face and walk over to the door. I unlock the door, and the second I twist the nob, I’m thrown back. The harsh blow makes me land on my back, pain coursing through my torso and bottom.

Blinking, I look up. And stop breathing.

Julius and Ling stand there, looking down at me. Ling trains her gun on me, and I scramble back, panting. “How did you find me?”

An expressionless Julius steps forward. I scramble backward till I hit wall. Body shaking, I tremble in terror as he approaches. Kneeling by my side, he sighs out loud before uttering, “Rule one of making a successful getaway.” He reaches out, his fingers gently removing wet strands of hair from my forehead before settling his gaze on me once more. “Never leave a trail.”

Moments like these do nothing for me. I don’t feel big, or strong, or manly. Seeing Alejandra sprawled on the floor like this did not make me happy. I have to say, I did find satisfaction at the shocked look on her face when she recovered from her fall, but having her thrown around like that, her small, frail body looking more ragdoll than human?

Nope. I don’t like it.

Gently taking her by the arm, I help her off the ground and am surprised that she allows me to lead her without a fight. I walk her over to the bed while Ling closes and locks the door. As soon as I sit her down, she shuts us out, dipping her chin, she pretends I’m not there.

The move is so childlike that my usually calm demeanor spikes, and suddenly, I want to smash heads.

My heart beats up a hard, quick drumbeat as my anger rises. I pace in front of her. I pace a long while before I utter a low and rough, “I’m real mad at you, Alejandra.”

Her response is immediate. “Fuck you.”

Pausing midpace, I turn to face her, my jaw tight. That was defiance and disrespect, plain and simple. My anger rises to a higher level, bubbling like molten lava deep in my veins. I mutter a deathly quiet, “Talk to me like that again and we’re gonna have problems, chica.”

Lifting her face to mine, she lifts her chin in insolence. “You’re not my father.”

“No, only the man you tried to frame for your husband’s death. The same husband you accused of murder. No, I’m not your father, but if I were”—I shake my head lightly, appalled—“I’d disown you for being a little cunt.” Bam.

Taken aback by my blunt statement, her eyes widen, and her mouth opens before she controls herself and snaps it shut. She looks out past my elbow into nothingness, losing focus, and something tells me I just lost her inside her own head.

Ling, sitting at the small table, waves her gun in the air to get her attention. “Which, by the way, is now on me, considering I’m the one who shot him.” She scoffs. “Not that it wasn’t worth it. The guy was an asshole.” She looks at Alejandra and shrugs. “No offense.”

Alejandra swallows hard, shuts her eyes, and then whispers, “Please stop talking.”

Ling rolls her eyes. She doesn’t like drama. I manage to keep quiet a short while before joining Ling at the table. Leaning forward, I place my mout

h to her ear, and whisper, “What do you see?”

Ling watches Alejandra closely, assessing her carefully before responding just as quietly, “I see a scared little girl trying to be strong.”

Me too.

I stand, making my way over to the bed. Pulling Alejandra up with a stiff yank, I pick up the duffel and throw it to Ling. She catches it, opens it then smirks. “Alejandra, you shock me, you dirty little sneak.”

That catches my attention. “What?”

Ling lifts wads of cash out of the bag, and I frown then scowl down at Alejandra, who refuses to look at me. “Exactly how long have you been planning this?” She doesn’t answer, but she visibly pales. I thought I was a good judge of character. It’s obvious to me that I can’t be trusted around beautiful women. They clearly fill my head with bullshit, and what’s worse is… I let them. My lip curls in disgust, and I yank Alejandra forward a little harder than I should. “Move.”

But she digs her heels in, eyes wide, pulling back in clear panic. “Where are we going? Where are you taking me?”

Without looking down, I grip her arm so hard I know it’ll bruise. Dragging her to the door, I utter, “I told you what would happen if you lied to me. You’re going home.” I look down at her and smile sharply. “What did you think? That you’d just get away with it?” I lower my face to hers till we’re almost nose to nose. “Vito Gambino wants you in a body bag.”

What I don’t add is, “And he’s getting his wish, because your father is a pussy.”

Scared Alejandra fights me to no avail then suddenly turns into resigned Alejandra. She stops hesitating and allows me to move her. Her sudden compliance should have me nervous, but I’m too pleased with the fact that I have her.