Page 77 of Mob Knight

I spot the public library half a block away. Since I’m so short, I know I easily blend into the crowd. When I get to the library, I check over my shoulder as I run up the steps. Those men are still following me, now much more purposefully. However, they’re far enough behind I get into the building and bolt to the children’s section, then into the men’s restroom. Fortunately, from being here before, I know it’s a single. I hope nobody needs the changing station.

I came in here because I pray they assume it’s unlikely I would hide in a men’s room rather than a ladies’ room. I pull out my phone and tap it awake before tapping on Cormac’s contact. It rings four times before going to voicemail.

Come on, Cormac, answer.

I hang up and dial again. I go through this two more times before he answers.

“Joey, what’s wrong?”

“I got separated from my guards, Cor. I’m in the public library in Manhattan.”

“How’d that happen?”

“We were getting on the subway, and everything was fine until this guy getting off bumped into me and knocked me backwards. Then he stood in my way, blocking me each time I tried to get around him until the car doors closed. Billy’d already gotten on to check it out, and Malcolm had just stepped on as I got pushed backwards.”

“What did you notice about the guy?”

“That he’s perfectly boring. There’s nothing that makes me think Russian, Italian or Colombian. He doesn’t even make me think of any other type of Latino. He’s average, with no distinguishing features. When I was about to turn to go back into the building where I had my meeting to call you, I noticed another man standing at the bottom of the steps, who looked over at the same guy. I don’t know what’s going on, but I knew I couldn’t go past the second guy to get into the building, and I knew I didn’t want the first one coming up behind me. I crossed the street and made my way here.”

“You blended into the crowd?”

“Yes. But, Daddy, they followed me. I know they must be in here now. I’m hiding in the men’s room in the children’s section. I’ve got the door locked, and I’m as far away from it as I can be.”

I’ve whispered this whole time, so I don’t think anybody who might stand on the other side of the door can hear me.

“Stay right where you are, little one.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“It’ll take me a little while to get there because I’m in Queens right now, but my parents aren’t that far away. I’m going to send them to you.”

“No, Cormac. These guys might be dangerous. I don’t want your parents involved. I’ll just wait here until you can send other guards or call Billy or Malcolm and let them know where I am.”

“I’m doing that anyway, but I’m still sending my parents to you.”

“But your mom?—”

“Joey, don’t argue with me, and heaven help anybody who comes near you while my mom is around. They’d do well to fear her far more than they fear my father.”

That makes me smile since it reminds me of my parents. “All right, Cormac.”

“I’m going to get off the phone with you just long enough to call my parents and to call the guys, then I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done.”

“All right, Daddy.”

It’s only when we hang up I realize I’ve used the term of affection I’ve saved either for our scenes or playfully when we’re hanging out. I’m scared, and it just slipped out.

It feels like hours as the minutes tick by.

This reminds me of when I was nine, and I got separated from my parents in a plaza in a town a couple hours away from where I grew up. We were there becausepapáhad a business meeting. Since it was on the beach, he brought my mom, Santiago, and me along with him. Santiago was already at the beach with a couple of guys who were sons of menpapáwas meeting with.

It was super crowded that day, and the sun was so bright it reflected off almost every surface, dazzling me when I tried to look around. When I stopped to tie my shoe, I had to let go of my mom’s hand. She stayed with me until I stood up, but then a couple of guys stepped between us.

My parents always told me if I ever got lost, I was to stay exactly where I was, and they would come back to find me.However, even at that young an age, I understood the men who separated me from my mom weren’t just regular townspeople. I knew they’d done it on purpose, so I ran.

It only took one look for me to know they weresoldados—cartel soldiers. I didn’t know if they planned to take me to asicario—hitman—or asanguinario—“the blood thirsty one”— “the blood drinker”—the butcher who’d hack me to pieces and leave me for the flies and crows. It wasn’t like my young mind ran away from me. At nine, I was old enough to understand I was just as likely to wind up with atimador—intimidator—someone who’d extort my wealthy parents.

My worst fear, as I ran through those streets, was winding up with anescopalaminero. That’s a man hired to drug someone with scopolamine. I didn’t know the drug’s name back then, but I’d heard it would make someone sleepy enough to do whatever their kidnappers said, but it would keep them awake enough to answer questions. It was like a “truth serum.” I feared they’d ask me things I didn’t know the answer to, or worse things I knew but wasn’t supposed to. Then—either way—I’d definitely wind up with asicarioorsanguinario.

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