“Right. Right. Sorry, man.” He slaps me on the back, making me feel guiltier than ever. “We’ve all been weird fucks lately. It’s the pressure from upstairs. Here’s what I’m thinking. We should all go out. It’ll be a good bonding time.”
Bonding time means one thing. Strippers.
“We have a run tomorrow night,” I remind him. We’re protecting a shipment of guns moving south.
“All the more reason to do this tonight. We’ll be a tighter, better unit. Who do we have driving?”
“Mason.”
Beefer looks up in surprise. “That kid? Isn’t he a little young for this?”
“I was younger than him when I was at the wheel.”
“All right. I trust your judgment. Let’s have PJ and Donny on lookout.”
“What about Snow?”
“I’ve got a bad feeling about him.”
“He’ll be mad. He’s been complaining about the light paychecks.” And a mad crew member is a talkative, easily bought off one.
“Snow can suck my left ball. He’ll get what he gets and be happy about it. Not like he has a choice. If he complains, you can treat him to a Glock special.”
Meaning, shove my gun into his mouth and let him swallow the bullet. “We’re going to run out of men if we do that.”
Beefer snorts. “Fuck that. There’s always some hungry runt willing to do anything including strangling his own mother in exchange for a few greenbacks.”
I try once more for Beefer to see the light. “He’ll leave then.”
“Ha!” Beefer barks. “You know that no one leaves. Once you’re in, you’re in. Only a bullet takes you out. Either in my brain or yours.” He flicks a finger in front of my face but doesn’t quite make contact. He’s not that dumb.
I hesitate because I promised to have dinner with Bitsy, and since I’m going to send her away soon, I deserve a little time with her.
“Look, I’ll be honest,” Beefer says when I don’t immediately agree. “You’re real closed off and I get that’s just how you operate, but there’s a lot of newbies in the crew and they don’t understand. Some of them are starting to wonder if your loyalty belongs to the business or yourself. If you go out and spend a little time with them, all that uncertainty will clear up in a sec.” He snaps his fingers. “If it was up to me, I’d pretend to care for the rest of the guys so that when we were out on a job, I wouldn’t always have to be looking over my shoulder, worrying whether some friendly fire was going to plug me in the back of the head.”
Beefer’s always been insightful—far more insightful than me. He’s giving me a warning that I should pay attention to.
“It’ll have to be later,” I tell him and then cast around for an excuse that doesn’t involve Bitsy. “The good dancers don’t work until after the dinner hour.”
“Need to go home and see your girl, do you?” He pegs me perfectly. Like I said, insightful—uncomfortably so.
“She just got back,” I say by way of explanation.
“Take her over to La Frais tonight. The wife loves that place. Says it makes her feel rich or shit. A fancy dinner goes a long way to settling hurt feelings.”
I give him a short nod. He’s closed off all my exits. Besides, Beefer might be right. Seeing other women might give me the relief I need to keep ignoring my feelings for Bitsy.
“Great. Get the word out to the crew. We’ll blow off steam tonight and tomorrow the unit will be tight as a witch’s pussy.”
Beefer pours himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee and salutes me with the mug. “To pussy.”
I hold up my mug, too. If this is what it takes to make sure that I don’t fuck things up with Bitsy, then I’ll be at strip bar every night until she’s shipped out of here.
28
Bitsy
“I thought you were bringing vermicelli salad from Pho What down the street,” I whisper in Leka’s ear. I had plans for us tonight that didn’t include leaving the apartment. Seduction is not an easy task in public.
“This place is more popular,” he replies tersely. He shifts away, as if my nearness is irritating. He’s been mad since I came home, but we haven’t had a minute to talk about it.
Is he still upset about the revelation of his sex life last night? He shouldn’t be. I don’t think any single piece of information could have made me happier. I’m glad he’s a virgin. It’s incredible, of course, that a man who looks as good as Leka has managed to live twenty-seven years without a single female jumping him, but I’m not complaining.
I want to tell him that I’m a virgin as well, but I don’t know how to bring it up. Maybe I should’ve texted him. That way he wouldn’t be embarrassed. We are in the same inexperience boat together. Although I’ve read enough fiction that I feel like I could show him a good time.