Page 82 of Shadowed Obsession

It’s no wonder why he ordered that she shouldn’t be left unsupervised. Look at the shit she gets into.

“I agree that you don’tneeda bodyguard, but if that was Cidro’s wish, it’s what he wanted,” I mention, hoping to reason with her. After all, Cidro was the only one whocouldreason with her.

“I don’t understand why Ro would hire a Scot to work for the Italians. I’ve looked him up and can’t find shit on this guy. But my husband trusted him to look after me in his absence? I call bullshit.”

“Um, I don’t know. He seems nice and very handsome.”

“You don’t have him tailing you all day. Please tell me more about his glowing personality, because to me he is a red-headed boulder with teeth.”

I snort. “Gi, my God. Please tell me you’re not doing a shakedown over there.”

“Fine, I’m not doing a shakedown. I’m teaching a lesson.”

“What’s the difference?” I squeak out, not sure if I want to know the answer.

“I warned him twice about counting cards, and he thought I was playing. Today was the third warning and you know I hate repeating myself. I got a call from my team. They took him off the floor so I can talk to him when I get there. Tell me why this motherfucker called me out of my name and tried tospit on me?”

Oh shit.

“I’ve had enough of these racist motherfuckers trying me because they hate a Black woman in charge. It is what it fucking is, and if he’s got a death wish, he found the right one. So, long story short, he’s kicking and screaming in my trunk.”

I have so many questions, but for once I can’t say she isn’t overreacting.

“Why didn’t you have anybody help? What if he overpowered you?” Somebody has to be concerned for her safety, aside from the red-headed boulder with teeth.

“I had help. The valet boys put him there. Those kids will hide a body if you offer them cash,” she murmurs the last part, as if it’s advice I’ll one day need.

“Counting cards isn’t illegal, Gi,” I remind her. But what she’s doingis.

“It is inmyfucking house. We’ll see how well you play blackjack without all your fingers,Alfieee,” she sings.

I resist the urge to laugh at her, though it’s a challenge. She’d be fucking hilarious if she wasn’t dead serious.

“Geez. It’s 9 a.m. What are you going to do?”

“Cigar cutter. One at a time then cauterize them,” she informs. “You got a better idea?”

Jesus. I love my family. I didn’t ask for them, but I love them, no less.

I swallow. “umm. No. I wouldn’t know the first thing about that.”

“Mmhm. So, why are you calling? You don’t call anymore and barely answer the phone for me. What do you want?”

She clocked me. She’s really good at spotting bullshit.

“Advice. I have a problem.”

Muffled screams filter through her end of the line, reminding us of the company she’s keeping.

“Hold on. Enough, Alfred. No one is gonna save you. If you’d been respectful, you’d have some leg room, but instead you ran your fucking mouth. And you better hold your bladder until we get there, I swear. Or you will be cleaning up your own mess with whatever’s left of your fingers. I only clean up after my kids.”

Silence passes as she waits to hear if he’s going to continue.

“I’m back. Sorry about that. If you’re ordering a hit, you’re gonna have to call Angie. I had to squeeze this errand in before I head back to the kids’ school.”

“What’s going on at the school?”

“Girl, fucking career day. Ro always did this, and it’s the first one without him,” she sighs. “He was better at this shit than me. A real PTA Daddy, he was. I’m not good with children that aren’t mine. You remember when Uncle El used to come to ours?”

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