Page 25 of Stealing Iris

“What?” He rushes over to where we’re standing, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Mijo,” Olga yelps, reaching out to keep him upright. “Be careful.”

His ostrich boots give an odd clump as he catches his footing. “Why didn’t you tell me, you stupid bitch?” He grips my biceps, his eyes open wide with excitement. “When did he come by?”

“Tuesday, right before noon.”

“Did he ask about me?”

Well he hadn’t flat-out asked. “I told him you weren’t here.” Which is still at least a portion of the truth.

“So shewent to lunchwith him,” Olga says with a self-satisfied smile. “This so-calledfriend.”

He yanks his elbow from her grasp, pushing her away in the process. “I don’t give a shit.” The lines around her eyes deepen with her wounded expression. Then he snatches the handle out of my hand and thrusts it into hers before dragging me aside. “Here, take care of this.” Olga barely grabs the handle in time, her jaw dropping as she’s caught by surprise. I’m not sure what happened the past few months, but the adoration has taken a nosedive. He never would have dared that stunt six months back.

“He mentioned coming by later in the week,” he says with a far-off look in his eye. “But he didn’t say when it might be, and I missed him.” He snaps back to attention. “What did he say?” Conny asks with all the enthusiasm of a gossiping teenage girl. “Was he mad I wasn’t here?”

“He didn’t say much of anything.” I shrug. “We just went for a quick bite, and I brought back a plate for Carol.”

He clutches my shoulder, frowning. “And?”

I exhale, resigned to the fact I’ll have to tell him. “He invited me to a get-together at his place on Saturday.”

He sucks in a breath, holding it for a few seconds. “Ho-ly shit.” Conny’s eyes go huge. “I’m in.” He pulls me against him, stomping his feet. “Did you hear that, Ma? He wants me at the party.”

“Well, he said you could be my plus-one,” I correct. “But—”

He sets me back. “Gotta talk to Iz,” he mumbles, smacking his palms to his pockets. He turns on a heel, pulling the car keys from his pocket as he heads out.

“Conrado, wait.” But he doesn’t slow down. “I didn’t say yes.” The words are enough to stop him mid-step, leaving the swinging doors half open. He stomps back inside, glaring at me with so much hatred in his eyes, his head might explode. “I didn’t know this was such a big deal.”

He swings around, bearing down on me with his arm raised, in a move I recognize. I instinctively shuffle away, lifting my arm up to block the blow.

“Conrado!” Surprisingly, it’s Olga who stops him, putting all her weight into derailing him before he reaches me. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You have until tomorrow to tell him you changed your mind.” There’s a steely look in his eyes I’ve never seen before. “If you ever expect to have a life, you’ll find him,” he says through bared teeth.

“I don’t know how,” I admit. He drags his hand up to my throat, despite Olga being latched on.

“I don’t carehowyou do it,” he says wild-eyed. “But you get me into that party, even if you have to suck his dick from now until Saturday. You get me?”

He wrenches his arm out of his mother’s grasp before turning away. He shoves the doors open with enough force to have them slam against the wall on either side.

And how am I supposed to find Dante in time, when I told his only contact he didn’t need to come by tonight?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

IRIS

I glance at the time again. It’s been over six hours, and I probably checked the clock a hundred times during each one. No matter how much I wish, the hands don’t go any faster.

“Let’s shut it down, Carol.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she says, counting what little money is in the register. Closing out the till at the end of the day is easier now, since most people use a card.

My heart’s in my throat. Will Tino be here tonight? I’d told him Carol drops me off Tuesdays and Thursdays. I go to the front entrance, searching the parking lot, but Carol’s little Ford is sitting out there all alone. He isn’t coming. My stomach twists into a knot. I need to get word to Dante I changed my mind about his party. If I can’t, the consequences could affect the rest of my life. What if Conny flips out before I talk to Tino tomorrow night? I can only hope Conny doesn’t show up. But with something this important to him, I know he will—and he might even be on time. Then I’ll have to deal with whatever he dishes out, if my nerves haven’t torn me apart.

I’ve never seen Conny raging like this. It’s like he’s a different person, and I wonder if whatever he’s taking isn’t causing the unpredictable moods. He’s looking for some big score, and he’s running the store into the ground, draining every cent since he got the idea in his head. We’re all suffering for it, me especially. At the beginning, we could barely cover the bills. Now the produce delivery’s been suspended because they haven’t been paid. They’re the first vendor to cut us off, and they’re not the only ones we’re behind with. Likely, the only reason they waited this long is because we’ve never been late before. Most have dealt with Dad since before I was born, and they know what’s happened to him. But sympathy won’t make payroll for their employees.

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