Page 9 of Ruthless Consequences

“Same here,” I said. “Except I bail them out. I keep us together.”

“He’s only going to do it again. Then what? Who’s turn will it be? Because I know Mo. He probably offered you a deal to work at The Cigar Bar. Sonny would have never been able to get out from under that interest he owes. Nowyou’reburied under it.”

“That long, huh?”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I’m not laughing.”

“I need to think about this. I need to see—”

I sat straight up. “Don’t tell him,” I said. “Don’t you dare.”

She laughed into the phone, but it was mirthless. “You think Shadow—he’s not going to find out? Wait until he sees you THERE. The place is connected. Besides, he—”

“I don’t care whathedoes or doesn’t do,” I said.

“He keeps tabs on you. More than tabs. I’m surprised you don’t see an extra shadow wherever you go. But you know this.”

“All decisions have consequences,” I said. “He made his choice. I made mine after. Here we are. I don’t want to talk about this for the umpteenth time. This has nothing to do with him.”

“Oh, but it does. You’re about to enter his world, big sis. Did you think about that?”

I shrugged, picking at a frayed spot on my shorts. “Since he invaded mine, I guess it’s only fair that I invade his. We’ll be even.”

“You can never get even with them,” she said. “You either best them or you don’t.”

“Tell me about The Cigar Bar,” I said, ready to change the subject.

She sighed. I heard her trash her cup, then she started walking again. “See no evil. Speak no evil. Understood? Until I can fix this, keep your head down, a smile on your face, and your ears closed. Damn! If someone doesn’t kill Sonny one of these days, I will!” The phone scratched a bit, like she was hustling. “Wait! Hey! Yeah!You!I need to talk to you! Call you back in a bit, Luci.”

The phone went dead. I looked at it for a second before I set it back on my nightstand.

I wasn’t sure what I was dreading more, working at The Cigar Bar or meeting the man I once loved in the depths of the darkness he ruled.

THREE

LUCILA

PRESENT DAY

I hadno clue how I got here.

I mean, I knew how I gothere, sitting outside, hiding from the people inside, but not how I gotherein my life. I wondered how many steps—from my first one to this last one—did it take? Because my entire life felt like a blur, except for this moment, which was crystal clear. Even in the darkness.

A few old plastic filing crates were turned upside down behind the building. I took a seat on one and pulled my candy bar out of my bra. The sights and sounds from inside caught my attention while I peeled back the wrapper. The lights in the storage room glowed, highlighting the many women hustling.

If I was being honest with myself, it could have been a lot worse. I didn’t have to sell myself, but I had to sell cigars, drinks, and bar foods—more like nuts and meats and cheeses on a platter for snacking. The name of the place, The Cigar Bar, was exactly what it was. It was a place designed for men of a certain society—criminal—to get together and have cigars and drinks.

The curtains were red velvet, the walls were burgundy, and the tables were black. A white candle in a glass vase graced each one. There was a stage in the back where a woman crooned a mixture of vintage and modern-day songs, but they were all slow and more on the jazz side.

Thankfully, the menu was slight. But the clientele was not. Most of them went by nicknames like “Nose” and “Big Joey,” and they had no problem whatsoever being touchy or allowing their eyes to linger.

My first night and I already had five propositions—What would it take to get you alone? $200? $500? I’ll go as high as $1000.I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted or not, because none of them matched the amount I owed Mo. Not that I would have taken them up on the offer anyway, but $200? I came close to telling him I wasn’t discounted goods, but I decided to smile and walk away.

I looked down at the uniform. It was all black. A sexier version of the outfits cigarette girls used to wear. We even had trays with neck straps. Various cigars were always on display, along with all the paraphernalia that went with. I had to make numerous trips to the bar for drink and food orders.

Mo was right. The tips were thick. At this rate, I’d pay him off in no time. But I’d agreed to dig a bottomless hole for him. Because he got a worker and all the money that went with her.

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