Page 60 of Death Match

She rolled her eyes at the use of Gerald’s made up rapper name. “Don’t tell me you’re calling him that, too. His name is Gerald.Gerald. And he’s a momma’s boy, not a thug.”

Annoyed, Ricky spun around and walked a few paces away from her before grunting and coming back “Why don’t you just let me help you?” he shouted at her. “The Knights and I…we can protect you.” His gaze fell on her exposed arm where the sleeve had ripped. “From everything.”

He meant “everyone.” More specificallysomeone—the person who had left those bruises.

But who?

“I’m not getting involved in the Knights. I told you already. Which reminds me…” She paused, as if debating what was the best way to go about saying her next words. Her voice lowered to a dull whisper. “Did you mention me and my…situation…to anyone? And I meananyone.Even in or associated with the Knights?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “What? No. Of course not. I swore to you I wouldn’t.”

Her deadpan look said she didn’t believe that. As much as I liked Ricky, I wasn’t sure I believed him either. “Then why did a big black man in a white suit confront me today at Murphy’s?”

Ricky’s eyes widened in shock, as if he knew exactly who Jade was talking about, despite the minimal description. “Cornelius ‘The Angel’ Jackson? He spoke to you?” Now expression transformed to fear. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “But I didn’t tell him. I—”

Wait. Mr. White was named Cornelius? And his nickname was ‘The Angel?’ Now that bullshit that he’d spewed about him being a guardian angel was coming full circle.

“There was nothing angelic about that guy,” Jade said plainly. “More like the devil dressed in white.”

“His enemies and even some of his friends call him the Angel of Death. Because of all the kills he’s ordered. He’s towards the top. Controls all the dealings within the Heights.”

That information didn’t surprise me, and by the looks of it, it didn’t shock living-me either. What I did think was ironic, though, was how this man was called the Angel of Death, and I had known, worked for, and killed the real Angel of Death not too long ago.

Talk about coincidence.

“Wait, you said Murphy’s…” Ricky went on as he considered her words again. “As in Murphy’s Play Room? The strip joint over on fifth?”

“Fuck…” Jade mumbled as her gaze dropped to her boots. She had just revealed something she hadn’t meant to. A big something. Guess Ricky didn’t know about her new job as a dancer. And she had hoped to keep it that way.

It was out in the open now.

“What were you doing at Murphy’s?” Ricky pressed for more.

“Uh…” She paused, most likely trying to find a way to get out of this one. But then, defeated, she sighed. “I’ve been dancing there for a couple of days. To make extra money fast.”

His eyes looked her over, up and down, as though he couldn’t quite believe it. Hell, I had seen myself dancing up on stageand I still was having a hard time believing it.

“You’re a stripper?”

She shushed him aggressively, waving her hands in front of his face and glancing all around her shoulder to make sure no one was close enough to overhear.

“It’s temporary,” she insisted.

“I mean, don’t take my shock the wrong way. You got a body to you—”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Her face turned red, jabbing a finger at him.

“But,” he went on anyway, ignoring her feeble attempt at silencing him, “I never took you as a stripper.”

That made two of us.

“Dancer,” she corrected. “I don’t remove anything. The goods are always covered.”

“Do you give lap dances? Grind on a pole?”

I shot Ricky a look. What was he doing? Did he think he was helping the situation? Did he think he was lightening the mood? All it was doing was making Jade more and more uncomfortable. More than that, I could see the way her eyes turned glassy, even in the darkness. This was obviously something she didn’t want to talk about. Especially to him.

“Stop it.” Jade suddenly looked ill. She swallowed roughly.

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