Page 83 of Unveiled Wounds

We waited, checking our phones every now and again for the time. Fifteen minutes later, Pretty walked out, standing between the front doors. He waved us forward.

“Don’t say a word,” he mumbled when we were close enough to hear him. Pretty marched us toward the elevators, waving at the front desk clerk and blowing her a kiss. I was going to be sick. She honestly thought she had a chance as she waved back, blushing.

The elevator door closed before Pretty spoke. “Gerry’s on the fourth floor. He should be by himself, but he’s had company every night since he’s been here. No one questioned their ages. I’m just saying.”

Ding.The elevator doors opened to the fourth floor.

Pretty walked down the hallway, palming the keycard to Gerry’s room. He stopped in front of the last door on the right, sliding the key into the reader. The light turned green as the door popped open. Pretty took a step back so that he was the last one to enter the room.

Gerry was sound asleep, laying on his back in the middle of the bed. His mouth was wide open, and he snored loudly.

I put my knee on the side of the bed, waiting. I didn’t need Gerry to wake up, see my bulk over him, and scream. When he didn’t make a move, I inched my way onto the mattress, holding my hands over his mouth. Sabre was on the other side, and I watched him hold up his fingers.

One.

Two.

On three, I covered Gerry’s mouth. His eyes shot open, and I applied more pressure. “Breathe through your nose. You’re not dying.”

“Yet,” Sabre supplied.

Pretty sat his ass on the desk facing the foot of the bed. There was nowhere to escape.

Gerry nodded his head, and I took my hand from his mouth, plopping my ass on the duvet cover. I wasn’t touching Gerry, but I made sure he knew we weren’t here on a family visit.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sabre asked him.

“Staying in a hotel,” Gerry responded smugly. We weren’t dumb fucks, and I wasn’t sure which part made me angrier–that he thought we were when we’d bailed him out multiple times, or that he discredited his daughters. They had chosen the two of us.

“No. I’m not fucking around with you. You’ve got about three seconds to spill what the fuck is going on, or you’re going to our Playroom. I can sneak you in without your girls even knowing.”

Pretty and I shot each other a glance. Sabre never threatened. If he said something, he was serious. Gerry was going to the Playroom unless he talked.

“I’m visiting associates, and you’ve rudely interrupted my sleep.” Gerry sniffed.

“We saw you coming out of Diego Lopez’s office building. Isn’t it ironic Matt cleared your gambling debt in that same building?” Sabre deadpanned.

“He calls us dumb fucks, but he hasn’t learned from the last time.” Pretty had taken offense, and I didn’t blame him. If I got the chance, I’d strangle Gerry and be done with this fucking shit.

“I’m not gambling.” Gerry was indignant as he sat up, fluffing the surrounding pillows.

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Sabre grabbed Gerry by the throat and slammed the back of his head into the headboard. Gerry flapped his hands around, sputtering and coughing until his face turned a bright shade of red. He tapped his hand against Sabre’s wrist, trying to get him to loosen it.

“I’m broke.” He coughed, and Sabre finally gave him some slack. “I have over thirty years of experience, and I can’t get work. I’m about to lose my home.”

“So? You haven’t earned trust. Your thirty-year reputation flushed down the drain. How does it feel to fuck up that bad?” Sabre asked.

“None of this explains why here, why now?” Gerry thought he was so slick, but none of this was sitting right with me. He was involved in something shady…again. I just didn’t have the answer for it all to make sense.

“I turned her in,” Gerry whined. His eyes stayed dry, but each breath hitched—sob after silent sob falling from his chest. “She’s always been the same, and six months with you fucks, and she’s completely different. Pajamas! With dog slippers! In the middle of the day.”

“Aunt E?” Pretty sat up straight, his ass still on the desk. “Are you really bitching about clothes and makeup? None of that shit fucking matters. Didn’t you learn that the first fucking time?”

“I turned her in to the cartel.” Gerry fake sobbed again. “She’s always been there for me, and now she doesn’t even take my phone calls.”

“Aunt E doesn’t have a phone, you fucking idiot. She’s been building the strength in her arms, down to her hands.” Sabre slammed Gerry by the throat against the headboard again.

If he wasn’t careful, Sabre was going to knock Gerry out. The second hit made the old man pause for a second, and his eyes had slightly rolled back into his head. It made me think of when Aunt E had first been healing and she would pause in the middle of a thought, retreating into herself.

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