Darryl jerked away from the gun.
“So, tell me, Darryl. Why do you think they call me the lion?”
“B-because. . .you’re f-fast, ruthless, and smart and. . .you kill—”
“Good job.” I patted his head and walked back to my chair. “That was fun, but we should stop playing and get down to business. Do you know Alana?”
“Yes.”
“You fucked her this morning, right after Rumi died?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“And you told her that you washed money for Rumi. Millions of dollars. You said you had a plan in the works where you would be running New York.” I tapped the nail gun on my lap. “This is good for me because if you don’t have anything to do with Rumi’s murder, then you can take over his washing. It seems a position is open.”
Darryl scrambled back to his knees and did that praying motion again. “Y-yes, but I was just telling her that to fuck, not to—”
“Remember, Darryl. Lions hunt in groups. She’s a scout.”
“I lied. It was all to impress her.”
“But, you do work for Rumi?”
“Yes, but I’m low level. I’m no one.”
“Your name is on every property he owns.”
“It’s just a front. It’s to. . .” Darryl shook his head in defeat. “It’s just a front to clean his money.”
“But, you said you’re low level.”
Sasha tapped ash on the floor. “Darryl, perhaps you should get to explaining the situation quickly, before my brother gets angry.”
Darryl wiped his face with his shaking fingers. “Okay. Okay. Back in the day, before Rumi got up with y’all, someone cleaned the money for Rumi. She taught him how to do it.”
“Why?”
“Because Rumi and I had. . .a problem, but I was working with him. She put my name on everything.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why?”
“To keep me safe. If I’m on all of Rumi’s shit, then he probably would think twice before killing me. But that was years ago, before he got this big. All the money washing shit. I don’t know nothing about it.”
“You’re not saving yourself.” I gripped the nail gun. “I have no reason to keep you alive. You don’t know who killed Rumi. You don’t know where my money is, and you have no idea how to clean.”
“Who was the woman who started Rumi off? Whoever taught Rumi was flawless.” Sasha finished his cigarette, dropped it on the carpet, and stomped it out with his foot. “I saw Rumi’s financial records. Every damn penny was sparkling clean from the very first day. There was a clear system in place. Maybe you should introduce us to this person. They’re efficient and can clearly keep their mouth closed.”
“But. . .” Darryl rubbed his face again and this time he looked more scared than ever. “It’s my sister, man. I can’t do that to her.”
“Where is she?” I asked.
He didn’t say anything.
I rose from my seat.
Perhaps Darryl thought I would ask him the question again with more sternness. Maybe even throw in a threat and glare at him.
I’d become bored. There was no need for words, unless they gave a name and location. Until then, we would talk with blood.
I shot a nail into his upper thigh.
“No!” Darryl rolled away. “Fuck! My sister’s name is Emily. She’s in Harlem.”
Blood dripped from his leg. His whole body shook as he screamed in pain.
I tapped the gun against his other leg. “I need more information, Darryl.”
“S-she has an art showing today. Her paintings. S-she has a gallery.” Tears spilled out of his eyes. “I can show you. I-I can take you there.”
“Hmmm.” I began to shoot him again.
Sasha placed his hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got the information.”
“Yes, but once I start, I like to—”
“This is why we don’t let you get dirty anymore.” Sasha gestured for our men to get Darryl. “Let’s clean up. We have an art event to go to.”
I didn’t rise yet.
Sasha looked at Darryl. “Is your sister any good?”
“Huh?” Darryl shook on the ground, glancing back and forth from Sasha to me.
“Is your sister a good painter?” Sasha asked.
“I’ve never seen Emily lose at anything,” Darryl whispered.
I wiped my nail gun on Darryl’s pants. “Then, let’s hope your sister’s luck is better than yours.”
Sasha walked off and handed out orders to our men. “Get the address and take us over.”
I got to my brother’s side. “A woman washer?”
Sasha nodded. “I’m sure it’s not odd for others.”
I set the nail gun on Rumi’s desk and then we left the penthouse, bypassing blood, death, and scattered dildos.
When we got outside, I said, “I hope Darryl’s sister is smarter than her brother. I hate killing women.”
Sasha laughed. “It’s because you’re too busy trying to fuck them.”
“That’s what they’re here for.”
“No. One day you’ll meet a woman who will change that thinking.”
I paused in front of the elevator and gave Sasha the oddest look. “Do you really think that?”
The elevator arrived. The doors opened.
Sasha laughed again. “No, I don’t. I just like to sound human every now and then.”
I shook my head. “Being human is so boring.”
“Yes. Yes.” Sasha walked on the elevator. “It’s nothing as exciting as being a lion.”
I thought back to that conversation with Darryl. “Too bad I didn’t get to use the blow torch.”
“There is that.” Sasha gestured for me to come on. “I’m sure there will be more opportunities.”
I walked on the elevator. “We’ll go see this Emily. If she does what we want, we leave New York. If she does not, then we kill her in front of Darryl and have him see if he can find someone else.”
Sasha added, “And hopefully we’ll buy a nice painting or two.”
“There is that.”
Chapter 2
Emily
I had another blackout. This one was worse than the others. This morning, I woke up in my office in strange clothes. My pocketbook hadn’t disappeared. My phone and wallet lay inside. I still had on my gold heart locket.
My stomach twisted.
Whatever guy I’d met had the good grace to not rob or hurt me.
But then why did he change my clothes? And how did I end up back in my office? I can’t believe I fucking blacked out.
A voice sounded in front of me. “Emily?”
There’d been money in the desk. The stranger hadn’t even looked. Maybe I’d drunkenly told the person to bring me here. I made a point to never bring anyone home. At least, I had it together enough to not do that.
“Emily?”
I looked up from my desk.
“Emily, are you okay?” My best friend, Kennedy stood in my office’s doorway.
Bouncy corkscrew curls outlined her face. Kennedy had that mixed look where people never knew exactly what she was. Some said Dominican. Others guessed black and white. I knew it was black and Japanese.