Gathering up my bag, I tried to walk around Beth, only for her to stand in my way.
“Sasha, are you okay?” She skimmed her hands down the outsides of my arms. “Has he threatened you? I can get my mom—”
“What? No! I’m trying to figure out what the hell he’s been hiding from me all this time. He would never hurt me, at least not like that.”
A deep frown pulled her dark eyebrows together. “You’re defending him?”
“No—I don’t know. This is just so different from the guy I knew.”
Her fingers dug into my skin,and she took a step closer, pressing herself against me. “Don’t be stupid,Sasha. He’s a dangerous criminal. You need to stay away from him. You’re too smart to let this monster pull the wool over your eyes.”
“No one’s fooling me anymore. My eyes are wide open.”I peeled her hands from my arms and stepped around her. Leaving Rise, I wiped my clammy hands on my sleeves as I hugged myself. Even after confirmation that Senator Cooper pays quiet money and that Luca and his family aremost likely responsible for it, I still couldn’t stomach the word criminal and Luca being used in the same breath.
I was pathetic.
* * *
A few days later, I was walking up to my apartment after a late night at the office when I spotted a familiar figure walking down the block.
I stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk but managed to right my steps. My heartbeat thumped in my ears seeing Pete on the other side of the street. Taking a deep breath to steady my shaking hands, I unlocked the door and stepped inside.As soon as the door shut, I ran to the window and opened the blinds a crack. Pete stood in the shadows of the alley until he turned and walked down the street, passing under a few street lights. He was on the phone as he slipped into a nondescript sedan.
On impulse, I snagged my keys and raced to the car. Huffing and puffing, I contemplated whether I should actually follow Pete. It was insane, but as his taillights lit up, I turned the key in the ignition.
I was doing this. I was this stupid.
Like any good tail, I let him get to the stop sign before I pulled onto the street. My pulse raced as I followed him for twenty minutes through the center of South City.
I left the radio off, so the only sound in the car was my continuous mumbling of “where are you going?” and my stomach growling. The hunger for food I’d felt earlier had been replaced by my stomach gnawing on itself in fear.Flapping my arms, I tried to get rid of the panicsweat breaking out all over my body.
We passed by abandoned buildings and strips of closed stores before reaching a more affluent area. InSt. Louis, you can have million-dollar mini-mansions across the street from condemned multi-family units. The disparity was something Luca wanted to address. I had worked with him onmanysection eight approved projects to help revitalize the area without destroying the existing neighborhoods with gaudy high rises.
Thirty minutes and countless turns later, Pete parked in front of a place called The Diamond Lounge. I drove past him and circled the block facing the other direction.
Sliding down in my seat, I peered above the steering wheel, watching dapper men and scantily clad women come and go. Five-star restaurants and upscale clubs line the block, so looking down at my outfit, I knew there was no way I would fit in at this particular bar.
Peeking around the backseat, I smiled. I’d left my show bag in the car after the last performance. With a pinch of discomfort, I squeezed into my corset top and pinned on a sleek black wig without incident.
The overall effect was excellent. I looked like a completely different woman. The corset paired with my trousers in a very “1990’s Madonna” way that I planned to recreate when I wasn’t doing something positively batty. The black wig made my pale skin and green eyes glow, but didn’t stand out as much as my flaming red hair. It was a very flattering undercover look.
After a few deep breaths, I stepped into the muggy night and sauntered across the street to the club. Any worry I had about getting in flew out the window when the meathead bouncer couldn’t take his eyes off my chest as he ushered me through the door.
As dark asthenight was, my eyes still had to adjust to the darkness of the club. I had no idea what I would find here, if anything. A tremor went through my hands as I quickly got my bearings.The decor and costumed cocktail waitresses gave a distinctively 20s speakeasy vibe. Women drank champagne cocktails while sitting draped around sharp-dressed men smoking fat cigars. I wondered how I’d never been there before—the place was made for me.
I walked around the edge of the bar, careful not to make eye contact for too long with any of the patrons.Toward the back of the large room, there was a hallway where the bathrooms were located and where I guessed Pete was. Grabbing a stool at the bar, I ordered a gin and tonic and picked out a cigar. Drink in hand, a thick cigar between my fingers, I sat with my back to the bar and watched the back hallway for Pete.
About half an hour passed, and I still hadn’t seen Pete or anyone familiar. Bouncing my leg, I tapped my nails on the bar top. What was I expecting? To follow Pete and jump out from behind a bush and yell gotcha? Did I want to see my friend being a violent thug? This whole thing was fucking with my mind.
I checked my phone, shaking my head. This little stakeout was over.
As I set cash on the bar to cover my tab, a short, stout man stalked my way. His piercing blue eyes never left mine as he made his way closer.
Standing in front of me, olebaldyblocked the room from my view. “Alessandro Ambrosia. And what’s your name, beautiful?”
“Betty.” I craned my neck to look around him and caught a glimpse of Pete pulling an unwilling young man behind him.
“Ah, a classic.”
Standing up, I slammed my drink back before smiling at the older gent. “Look, you seem like a nice guy, but Igottaroll. Have a good night.”