He lets me off his lap a few minutes later, and I’m not immediately sure why he did it… until I notice the other guys barely even look my way again. I still bring them drinks or snacks or cigars, but no more leering to make me uncomfortable, and definitely no more groping.
He marked me as his.
I’m obviously not, but the knowledge does little to remove the mantle of guilt around my shoulders.
When I can get away, I text Vince to let him know everything’s going fine. I had to leave my phone in the other room, since my outfit leaves absolutely nowhere to store it. I also want to tell him that now, while it’s still true.
A little later, there’s a pounding on the door. Having seen too many movies, it scares me, and I think the game’s being busted or something.
Nobody else is concerned though.
“Probably Conroy’s lazy ass,” Mateo says to the table, before nodding at me. “Let ‘em in.”
I wish everyone would’ve arrived before Mateo did his little cigar performance, but I guess someone will clue any newcomers in if they start to act stupid.
Yanking the door open, I open my mouth to welcome them, but I stop short, mouth hanging open, because I recognize the two men at the door.
The cops who stopped me on my way to school Monday.
Chapter Twenty Eight
My mouth goes dry and my mind races. The party is being busted—and what the hell is going to happen now? I’m going to be hauled into the police station, no clue how to get out of talking, Mateo is going to be arrested—this is a fucking disaster.
Then Potbelly brings a finger to his lips, indicating I should be quiet.
It’s too late to warn them anyway. It’s too late to tell Mateo… I don’t even know what I could tell him, because this is it.
They’ve got him.
I should feel relieved, but… I don’t.
Potbelly takes a step forward and I stumble back several steps, but then he moves past the door, in Mateo’s sight, and I’m baffled because he hasn’t even pulled a gun.
“There you are, you lazy bastard,” Mateo says, congenially.
One of the other guys groans and jokes, “Aw, the boys in blue. We’re gonna have to take it down a few notches, guys.”
I don’t know what the look on my face must be right now, but some mash-up of disbelief and what-the-fuck is my guess.
“Mia,” Mateo says, nodding at me. “Grab them cigars.”
I turn slowly, trying to make sense of things—and fast. Mateo obviously knows they’re cops, and it does make sense that he would have some on his payroll, but… the potbellied cop obviously knew who I was at the door, when Mateo couldn’t see them, and he told me to be quiet.
My blood runs cold as I realize they’re double-crossing him. They’re obviously here as friends, cops on his payroll, but when they’re not here, they’re trying to turn people close to him to testify against him.
I don’t know what to do. I could wait and see how things shake out, but what if Mateo, guard down, says something in front of them they could use?
He’ll find out they talked to me. He finds out everything. And they’ve seen me here tonight, so they’ll never believe me again if I tell them I don’t have anything to offer them. They’ll come after me, and because I can’t turn on him… what’s going to happen to me?
My hands are on the cigars, but I can’t move. The whole world is suddenly crashing down around me and it’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to see a way out of this.
I drop the cigars.
I turn around and look once more at the table.
Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I walk over to Mateo. “You’re out of cigars.”
With a perplexed frown, he says, “No, I’m not.”
I nod. “Are there more in the back? Can you show me?”
His expression clears and he leans back, giving me a probing look. Quietly, he asks, “You want me to take you to the back room, alone, to show you where the cigars are?”
Sighing to myself, I say, “Yes.”
He nods once, then moves to stand. “You gentlemen’ll have to excuse me for a minute. I have to help the lady locate some more cigars.”
I wish he’d hurry the hell up. Those stupid cops probably know what I’m about to do, and we’ll all be lucky if they don’t stop me before I can.
My hope is that they’re outnumbered, with no back-up outside. That’s the only way this works.
At the same time, I don’t even want to think about what Mateo’s bound to do to them if they’re on their own.
As he follows me into the back room, he says, “I have to admit, this surprises me.”
“Trust me, it’s a last resort.”