On the way to visit Romy’s grandmother, it’s obvious they are being followed. He suspects that it’s one of the men in the gang he’s infiltrated. He’s vied for position with a man named Rimsky, who seems to be making a move against him. No matter what they do, they can’t seem to shake the tail, making Romy believe that whoever drugged Saige at the restaurant must have left a tracking device on her. He shoves her down in the seat to protect her in case there’s gunfire.
She giggled, her head nearly in his lap. The irony of her position didn’t go unnoticed by the men.
“Oi, Rom,” King said in a fair imitation of his English accent. “Ever had a blow job while evading a tail?”
Romy laughed, smacking his arm. “You’d love to know the answer to that and I’m not going to tell you.”
The dark skinned agent raised an uncertain eyebrow. “You’re shitting me, right?”
Romy flashed a toothy grin. “You’d love to know that too. Maybe I’ll tell you when you grow up. Of course, the fook not. Why spoil a perfectly good blow job when you’re dodging bullets?”
“We lost him,” Harmony reported. “I’d be more inclined to think you did, Rom, but you won’t say so in front of the lady.”
“We’re missing lunch, gents. This is too dangerous to bring home. Harm, the safe house.”
“Alpha or Bravo?”
Romy eyed the landscape as it flashed by. “Bravo. Alpha’s on the other side of town.” He whipped out his phone again, hitting speed dial. “Chas, it’s bug out time. You know where to go. Yeah. No, we’re fine. Where’s Dexter? K. It’s hit the fooking fan, mate. Right. Call me when you get there.”
Romy bit his knuckle, his eyes holding a desperate worry. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Something made them panic. Love, as soon as we get you settled, I’ve got to go out.”
“Romy, what’s going on?”
“That’s what I’ve got to figure out. Something major went down whilst I was gone.”
He took a second cell phone out of his pocket, whipping it open. The expression on his face changed, hardened. He spoke rapidly in Spanish, but Saige was fluent enough to understand most of what he said.
“Enrique, what’s going on? I’ve got Rimsky on my ass. They jumped my lady friend at a bar and tagged her. What the fuck, man? This is not how we do business. Put Pablo on.”
There was a short pause. She couldn’t hear the other man’s answer, but Romy’s face clouded with anger.
“I don’t care what he’s doing or who he’s with. You’ll put him on, or you and I will have a conversation about your future in this organization. A very short, abrupt, loud one. Got me?”
He put his hand over the mouthpiece, speaking to Harmony. “Take the next right and double back.”
“Yes, boss.” He did as he was told.
Saige didn’t like the expression on Romy’s face. She also didn’t like how he was acting. Was he really a secret operative, or was he a drug dealer or something equally awful like Stan said? She was pretty sure Stan was teasing, but uncertainty filled her mind. Her heart strongly supported Romy. He wouldn’t lie to her. But the entire nature of what he did was a fabrication. He wove a web of lies daily to protect himself. What was to keep him from lying to her? He said he loved her, could he be lying yet again? She was in an agony of doubt.
Saige shifted uneasily in her doubled over position. Romy’s hand caressed her cheek. If she had any doubts of his affection, that small gesture banished them. She remembered what he said the first night they made love. The other personality, the one he pretended to be, wasn’t nice and he didn’t like him. She had seen that face and it scared her.
As if he could tell what she was thinking, he raised her hand to his lips, kissing it even as he talked rapidly to the man on the phone. As soon as he’d finished, he shut the phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. He helped her sit up, kissing her as he brushed the tangled hair gently from her face.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I wanted this to go more smoothly. Something unexpected has happened, but no one knows about it but us. Rimsky’s kept a tight lid on it. I can’t imagine why he’s moving against me now.”
“What’s different about now?”
“That’s what I can’t figure out.”
“Me,” she whispered, strangely terrified. “I’m what’s different.”
“You aren’t any part of this wreck,” he assured her.
“But I’m a part of you. Maybe that’s why they chose to move against you, because of me. I make you vulnerable, Romy.”
“Don’t think like that. It isn’t true.”
“But it is. They can’t hurt you but they can hurt me and your Gran. We’re the weak links.”
© 2012 Dellani Oakes