Page 48 of Shadowed Obsession

“Deeee. Haven’t heard from you in a while. How you doing?” His jovial greeting fills every crevice of my car. I turn the volume down as I head home.

“I need you to look into someone for me,” I say, focusing on the road.

“What happened to your fucking manners? You greet someone when you call them,” he barks, his New York accent is very thick.

He’s notactuallypissed, but he’s half Italian and was raised to be far more polite than I was, apparently.

I huff, “Hello, Angie. I need you to look into someone for me.”

“That’s better. You got a name, date of birth, or plate number?” he asks, keys clacking in the background on his end.

“I don’t, actually, but I do need your help.”

“Are they local? Work in the area? Gimme a physical description,” he suggests.

About that…

“I don’t know what he looks like. His face is always covered,” I confess in a low voice as the click of my blinker fills the space.

“What? The fuck do you want me to do, then?” I wince at the incredulity in his tone.

Fuck it.

I think of something else I need to know.

“Um, is there anyone assigned to look after me in Austin?”

“Yeah. A couple of guys, actually. The Piñeros. Regina’s people. Is anyone giving you trouble?”

“Not exactly, but—wait. Regina hired them? Not my dad?” This may not be the information I called for, but it’s definitely enlightening.

“Nah. Uncle El says he’s backing off. So, Gi stepped in. The guy you’re asking about. Do you like him or is he a problem?” he asks. “Cause this is different, cousin. The Piñeros don’t fuck around. We can’t just take one of ’em out like we do in our city.”

Fucking Gi.

“Um. I don’t think he’sthatkind of problem. He’s pleasant, but annoying. Since Regina vouches for them, he must be all right,” I reason, more to myself than Angie.

“They’re good people from what I’ve heard, but the Cartel goes by a different set of rules than we do.”

Ya think?

“Yeah. I get that, but the Cartel thing makes me nervous.”

I really don’t understand that. How can I want to go legit and fuck around with somebody in the Cartel? I literally can’t.

His tone softens as he says, “Look, I can hear the wheels turning in your head. Do me a favor and don’t do anything stupid. Get me a phone number to trace, an occupation, or a car make and model? I’m good, but I can’t pull something from nothing. So, help me help you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise me you won’t fuck him before I do a background check?”

“I promise,” I lie. “I’ll get more information and send it to you.”

“Right on. Love you,” he says.

“I love you, too, Angie.”

The line disconnects as I pull into my garage. I don’t waste any time shutting the door behind me and walking inside. I peel off my clothes on the way to the shower, thankful I live alone, even if I have an audience. When I finish, I trot around in my robe and resume where I left off on my latest audiobook. I’m soon distracted by my phone lighting up with text messages from him.

---