Page 12 of Shadow Man

My shadow is the fault line separating my before and my after, and I’m done surviving on his earthquake tremors.

Once I’ve finished packing, I peek through a crack in the curtains to the street below. His SUV is still parked. Driver’s door shut. I know he’s in there, waiting not so patiently for my compliance.

Run.

Flinging my cellphone onto the bed, I throw my bag over my shoulder, yank my pink Chucks on, and let myself out of the apartment. I make it halfway across the threshold, and then I’m leaning back in to grab the Polaroid of Eve and me that I keep tucked into the mirror. Shoving it into my bag, I cross the hallway and rap on my neighbor’s door.

I’m praying she’s up late watching Frasier re-runs again.

I’m also praying she still has fire escape access from her kitchen balcony.

5

Joseph

Rick Sanders’ number is tapped into my cell before Anna is out of the car. The call connects as she’s entering the building.

“Where are you?” I grit out.

Rick laughs, wicked and rough, a sound that would make any outlaw proud. “Balls deep in heaven, if you must know.”

Some woman starts giggling away in the background.

Jesus Christ.“Put your whore to bed. We need to talk.”

“Call me back in an hour. She’s just come all over my cock, and I’d like to return the favor. I offer up the veneer of a gentleman, if not the longevity.”

Motherfucker.Rick’s no more a gentleman than I am. He bleeds Brooklyn swagger and perversion. He’s the biggest distributor of cocaine in New York and Florida. A position that Dante and I just strengthened for him when I fired a bullet into his biggest rival.

“Speak now, or you can deal with Dante’s displeasure. Your choice.”And, let's be honest, neither of us wants to fuck with that.

There’s a pause, and then he’s making a big show of groaning out his irritation.

“Jesus. Fine. Hold on.” There’s the sound of rustling sheets and female squawks of protest. “Okay, I’m listening… Is this a local call or an international one?”

“Local.”

“Thought you were heading back to his island?”

“I had some business to take care of in Miami first.”

Rick laughs. “I see. Does this business happen to be a hot blonde, around 5’7”, with a suicidal disposition?”

His curiosity turns my hand into a tight fist. I’m not the only predator with Anna in his sights, but our respective end games couldn't be more different. He wants to fuck her. I want to fight for her. I want to slay every demon she wages war with, and restore her crown. As for Sanders, he’d rather hang it on the bedpost when he was done and leave her drowning in dirty sheets.

I need to make shit right.Years of working for Santiago have twisted that compulsion to match the direction of his bullets, but the rules have never changed as far as I’m concerned.

My fingers stray to the chain around my neck, to the two wedding rings locked together there.

Protected.

Respected.

Lost.

Not this time.

“We need to meet.” I wrench my fingers away.

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