Page 28 of Her Intense Protector

“You’ve got to save your money and go home. They need you. Sharon needs you. Your son needs you. Your daughter needs you.”

He looked at her with tears in his eyes. “Okay.”

The door slammed open. “What the fuck are you two doing?” Carl demanded, as Samantha twirled around and away from both of them. “You drunken ass. I ought to kick you out of here.” She heard a scuffle.

She unbuttoned the first two buttons of her dress and pulled it open exposing her lacy bra, then wiped her hand over her mouth, smudging her lipstick. When she turned back, she made sure she stepped on the pictures that Phil had dropped.

“Carl, stop,” she pleaded.

Carl turned from where he had Phil by the shirtfront. He gave her a onceover. “How do you two know each other?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked innocently. “We met tonight.”

“Bullshit,” Carl said. “I’m not buying that.”

“Look, I just needed a little hit of something. A little bump of something-something or a man. If you’d been available, Carl, I would have been all over you. But Phil here was all that was available. Maybe you and I can talk after the game,” she winked.

“You are so full of shit, lady.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

She watched as Carl gave her a serious considering glance. He gave a little smile. She had him.

Hurray!

Carl let go of Phil so he fell to the ground. He looked over at Samantha. “Cover yourself up and fix your lipstick. Break time is over. I’m assuming you jammed the exit door over there?” he jerked his thumb toward the ladies’ room.

She nodded.

“Well, go.”

She went.

As she opened the door, she saw Carl dragging Phil back in the exit door of the men’s hallway. She quickly went into the ladies’ bathroom and fixed herself up.

Carl was waiting for her near the roulette table with all of the men. He rolled his eyes when he saw her. It didn’t matter to her, she’d accomplished her mission.

* * *

“It’s a wig shop. That has to be a first,” Asher laughed.

“What do you mean?” David asked.

Ezio snorted. “You didn’t grow up in New York. Anything could be a front for anything. Did you notice how big the building was? It might have a dry cleaner beside it, but still, the building that the two shops occupy is huge.”

“Shit, I didn’t see that,” David admitted.

They drove by and parked two blocks away. They’d taken Eden’s car, the one she loved, the one that Asher called her piece-of-shit baby. It was a nineteen ninety-nine Honda Civic with over three-hundred-thousand miles on it, and you could tell. It was perfect for this neighborhood. They were dressed in jeans and hoodies and even though it was eleven-thirty at night, the neighborhood was hopping. Everybody gave the three large men a wide berth.

They took the long way around the block when they got to the wig shop.

“Do you see him?” Ezio asked, as he nodded to a squirrely-looking guy in front of the wig shop.

“Sure do,” Ash answered.

“Yep,” David agreed.

He was across the street from the wig shop, leaning against a telephone pole, pretending to talk on his phone, but his eyes were locked onto the front door.