“How about a Screwdriver?” Goldie counters, her lip curled. “Plunged into your eye.”
Ringo’s face drops like lead. “I was playing.”
“I don’t play,” she mutters, slamming her body down on the couch and raking a stressed hand through her hair. She’s pissed. I get it. Freedom was a whisper away and now due to loyalty, she’s going nowhere. As soon as we’ve dealt with this shit, she’ll be gone, and she will go with James’s and my blessing.
“You want some time out?” I ask her, earning myself a death glare too.
“Why the fuck would I want time out? I want to get on with this shit and get the job done.”
I nod. I like her attitude. Sometimes.
“The lobby bar. Half an hour.” James hangs up and faces the room, therefore my curious face. Which he ignores. “Are we done?” he asks.
“No, I want—” My phone rings, and as soon as I see who’s calling, I hold it up to James before answering. “Chaka,” I say, telling everyone else in the room who it is as I click to loudspeaker. “How’s my favorite king of Africa?”
“Black,” he says over what I know is a small laugh. “You woo me.”
“You’re not calling with a problem, are you, Chaka?”
“No problem. Just checking the finer details for the delivery.”
“Details to come,” I say dismissively. “Now, let me ask you something, Chaka, my friend.” I perch on the edge of Brad’s desk and cross one ankle over the other, hearing the building threat in my own voice. “And only the truth will do here, or that peaceful community of yours in that beautiful village far, far away from civilization might be blessed with a firework display very soon.”
“I thought we were friends, Black.”
“We are, which is why it pains me to threaten you.”
“You’re in pain?”
“Agony. Now, tell me,” I go on, bracing myself for the imminent exploding ofmyself, the anger brewing dangerously. I swear, whoever’s been shouting their mouth off, I will cut them up. Slowly. With a blunt knife. “How the fuck do you know my wife is pregnant?”
“Because you told me.”
I jerk. Frown. Cast my eyes around the room. “What?”
His laugh is deep and rumbling. And really fucking irritating. “When you called me a few nights ago from St. Lucia as drunk as I’ve ever heard a man.”
“Oh.”
Brad starts laughing, as does Ringo and Otto, and Goldie rolls her eyes, blowing her cheeks out in despair. And James. He’s expressionless. Deadpan. Seriously unimpressed.
“I guess I told you I was in St. Lucia too, huh?” Fuck my life. Fuck my stupidity. Fuck everything.
“Sure did. Now, are we done?”
“We’re done.” I am not living this down.
“Back to business,” Chaka says.
“I said I’d send you the details.”
He’s laughing again. “I’m talking about the other shipment.”
“What other shipment?” I ask, feeling all attention on me.
“The one you ordered that night after telling me you’d slice off my black balls and feed them to the hyenas if I didn’t fulfil it.”
“Oh,” I murmur again, as James shakes his head at me and the rest of the gang look at me like they feel sorry for me. They should. I’m feeling quite sorry for myself too. “Thatorder.” I have no fucking idea what he’s talking about. “Don’t suppose I can cancel it?”