Page 17 of Daddy's Oath
She reached Hollywood Boulevard and rounded the corner. There were still plenty of people out, even though it was probably about midnight. The Boulevard would eventually slow down. But for a couple more hours, at least, it would be busy.
Across the street, the shop advertising LINGERIE AND COSTUMES was still doing moderate business. A few scantily clad women stood a couple of doors down, as if casually waiting while leaning against the building, and Lana figured they were sex workers.
On her own side of the street, a couple of people sat against the building that housed a bodega. That shop was closed, but the souvenir store connected to it still had its two garage doors rolled up, with patrons milling about, looking at the countless magnets, mugs, and other low-price items that read HOLLYWOOD.
Some people gave her strange looks. Others just went on about their business.
Hollywood Boulevard had its share of oddities. A young woman in her pajamas walking barefoot wasn’t the most unusual thing that could happen there on any given day.
Against the curb, several street vendors remained, though many had gone in for the night.
She kept going, past a pizza place, a smoke shop, and toward an oddly placed medieval torture museum. Most of the stuff around there had to do with movies and entertainment. Lana had never figured out what the Middle Ages had to do with all that. But, then again, the Boulevard could be a strange place.
To her left was a vendor who seemed to be packing up for the night.
“Ma’am,” the older Hispanic man called. “You need shoes. It is not good to be walking like that.” His gaze fell to her feet as he put a box of fruit in the back of his pickup truck that was parked against the curb.
For some reason, Lana stopped walking and stepped closer to him. “I know. I’m… in a hurry.”
There was no use explaining any more.
A woman who was about the same age stepped around from the front of the truck. “Forgive my husband. He does not mean to pry. He’s just worried. The ground, it…” She waved her hand toward the sidewalk, as if to indicate how dirty it was.
Her accent was as thick as the man’s.
“You can have my shoes,” she added.
“Ma’am, I couldn’t?—”
The woman smiled softly. “Si. We are going home. I have more there. You must take them.”
Lana looked the direction she’d come. Thankfully, she didn’t see the two guys approaching. Had she lost them? Or had they been arrested?
She then looked back to see the couple exchanging glances.
“Where is it you seek to go?” the man asked.
“West Hollywood,” Lana replied.
She didn’t know why she trusted this couple. But she did.
“Please. We will give you a ride. This is—what you’re doing—is unsafe,” the woman said. “Please.”
Lana climbed in their truck and thanked them profusely.
Maybe she’d reach Auntie Athena’s safely, after all.
Chapter Nine
It was just after one in the morning when Ace got the call.
“Hello?” he said, a little groggy as he tried to shake the cobwebs of sleep from his brain.
“Ace. It’s Trevon.”
There’d been no need for the man to identify himself. First of all, his contact info was in Ace’s phone. But secondly, he had the deepest voice on the planet. It matched his giant, hulking frame, too.
Trevon stood at least five inches over six feet and had muscles to spare. He looked every bit the ex-pro-football player that he was.
