Page 66 of Princess's Revenge

She runs forward and she’s on me before I even know what’s happening! She leaps into the air and lands two kicks to my chest, knocking me back.

Next comes a flurry of punches to my midsection.

I swing high to get her to dodge and she does it with ease, ducking low to deliver two punches to my inner thighs, then sweeps my feet out from under me with her right leg!

I land hard and get the wind knocked out of me.

She somersaults back and lands in a fighting stance once more…a triumphant smile on her face.

I sit up, “I’m done taking abuse for today, you’re getting too good.”

“You think?”

“I know so, but you need to remember, it’s not only about how hard and fast you can hit, it’s also abouttaking a hitand getting up from it so you can keep going.”

“Being able to take a hit only matters if someone can lay a hand on me. I’ll concentrate on being fast. I don’t need to practice getting hit to know that it’s going to hurt.”

“Fair enough,” I get up and start stripping off my pads, “I could use a shower, care to join—”

I don’t get to finish because one of my guys, Tim, comes running up to us like a pack of wolves is chasing him, “Donna Lupertazzi, Christopher!”

“Calm down,” Andrea says, “what is it?”

“Phone,” he pants and hands it to me.

I look at the caller. It’s blocked. Probably a burner. I answer, “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” Leo Abruzzi, “that thing we talked about?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s happening tonight at ten. Dock eighty-seven.”

“Right.”

*Click*

Wise-guy talk…all code.

I’d reached out to Leo after thesit-downlast week to feel him out. He’s not seeing dick from the cocaine business. He never has. He didn’t agree with the hit sixteen years ago.

I casually dropped a hint that I’d be grateful if he could help me slide this whole thing along.

He said if he could help ease the transition, he would. That’s what this phone call is about.

Andrea comes to me, “What?”

I toss my phone to Tim and jerk my head for him to leave us alone. When he’s gone, I tell Andrea, “It’s happening tonight at ten. Dock eighty-seven. They’re going to be collecting fifty-kilos of coke at the port.”

“Good,” she smiles, “did he tell you fifty or are you guessing?”

“Well, that’s the usual amount. It started at ten way back in the old days, but the regular amount is fifty these days.”

“But how do you know that?”

“Guys talk, Andrea. I mean, only to othermadeguys, but we talk.”

“Very good,” she smiles bigger and turns toward the main house. Looks like we’re skipping the shower.

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