The Game Never Ends. Zaire Crown
your friend and took his place because it’s what I would’ve done. Sacrificed a knight to promote a pawn.
“And with Rico out of the way, my father opened up the floodgates for you. For twenty years I had to sit back and watch you grow, prosper, earning the name and money that was supposed to be my big brother’s.”
She smacked her hand against the table. “And now the king of cocaine is retired and living in Beverly Hills with two kids and a goddamn stripper.”
She glared at Tuesday. “Yeah, I know all about you, Tuesday or Tabitha, whatever you want to call yourself. Tell me, just between us girls, how does a common hoodrat like you go from fucking in cheap motels and robbing street dealers to being married to a man like this? You must feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman—the prostitute who catches the billionaire. Dreams really do come true, right?”
Tuesday wanted to spaz, but if she went off the way she wanted, she would only end up on the floor next to the dead waiters. She simply said, “Bitch, you don’t know me.”
“But I know your man, and I know him very well,” La Guapa teased. “Let me guess, he told you not to say anything. Ask yourself something. Was it because he was afraid I might hurt you or was he more afraid you might embarrass him?”
Tuesday returned the smile La Guapa was giving her. Inside she was fuming but she refused to let her have the satisfaction of seeing it.
Marcus asked: “How long do you think we can sit here and reminisce? I’m sure the people who work here have family who are starting to call and get worried. Nobody’s answering the business line or their personal phones. How much longer will it be before people start knocking on that door?”
Roselyn gave her sister a cautionary look of agreement.
For a moment, La Guapa just glared at him with a look that could cut metal, then conceded. “My father’s prognosis is much worse than we’ve let on to anybody outside the family. He doesn’t have months, just days to live. So the meeting has been pushed up to Saturday.”
Tuesday frowned. “The day after tomorrow?”
La Guapa said to Marcus: “You’ll be leaving with us tonight. My father wants to see you first and sent me to collect you personally. We have a jet waiting nearby.”
Tuesday said, “Bitch, he ain’t goin’ nowhere wit’ y’all. And we got our own jet. We’ll meet you there.”
Marcus said: “I know Rene didn’t sign off on this bullshit. This little stunt was all you, Reina.”
She gave a guilty grin. “He only said to come and get you. He didn’t specify the means.”
“We need to leave now,” Roselyn reiterated. “We have somebody to make sure your wife gets home safely.”
“Fuck that!” Tuesday spat. “Where he go, I go.”
“Sebastian, muzzle your pet before I put her down.” La Guapa flashed him a warning glare. “Father’s protection doesn’t extend to your wife.” She added with a sinister tone: “Or your kids.”
One of her men came and stood behind Tuesday’s seat.
Marcus shot him a look. “Bitch you betta back the fuck up unless you ’bout to massage her shoulders.”
He cut back to La Guapa. “I’ll go with y’all, but let that be the last time you threaten my family. Act like you remember who the fuck I am. I kill shit about mine.”
To Roselyn he said, “And I’ll be the one making sure she gets home safe. Me and my wife came here together, we leaving together. And any muthafucka who got a problem with that can start shooting shit right now.”
Marcus scanned them all. His eyes defiant.
Chapter Nine
The drive home was quiet and eerily surreal. The strangeness at Dominic’s—the trap, La Guapa—made Tuesday feel like only that part of the evening had been real, while everything that preceded was a dream. They navigated the streets, passing motorists and pedestrians while Tuesday looked at them curiously. It fascinated her how they were totally oblivious that there was a popular Italian restaurant where the entire staff was murdered and stored in the meat freezer, totally oblivious that they lived in a world where that could happen outside their movie studios.
Tuesday was in the passenger seat continuing the silence Marcus had demanded at Dominic’s. She did place a quick call to the sitter just to check on the girls but said nothing else. Every now and then she glanced at the side-view mirror to find the same set of headlights tailing them. La Guapa’s men.
Marcus had the Wraith by the wheel and seemed equally content to let silence be the theme. There was no talk or music. The sodium vapor street lamps threw shafts of pale orange light into the car, briefly illuminating a dark face strained with concentration.
After a while he unexpectedly broke the silence. “Reina took over her father’s business when Rene got too old and his health started to fail. She was a scholar who was never supposed to be in this life. Usually that would have fallen on the oldest son, but without Rico—” He allowed the thought to trail off.
“What happened to their brother?” Tuesday made sure it didn’t come off like an accusation.
“I worked for Rico back when he was being groomed to take over for his father. I was his right hand, and in charge of his security.
“A rival crew caught him leaving a club in Houston. They sprayed over two hundred rounds in his Maserati. I was supposed to be with him that night but got caught up doin’ some other shit.”
Tuesday said, “Somewhere doin’ his sister.”
He confirmed it with his eyes. “She was real close to Rico and the loss hit her hard. She blamed me for that shit.”
Even though Reina and Marcus were ancient history, Tuesday still couldn’t stop the childish game of comparing herself to his ex.
“Why do they call her La Guapa? Is it like guap—slang for money?”
“I actually gave her that name a long time ago.” Marcus focused on the road to avoid looking at her. “Rico was teaching me Spanish back then and when I learned guapo meant handsome, I thought it had a feminine counterpart. I started calling her La Guapa—The Pretty One.”
Tuesday sucked her teeth. “Ain’t that a bitch.”
“It was twenty years ago. I didn’t think it would stick.”
“How did she know we were going to be at Dominic’s when I only reserved that table a few hours earlier? How tha fuck did she do that?” Tuesday thought about all the scams and heists she’d ever planned, and remembered how she would plot for weeks. “How in the fuck did she do that?” she asked herself more than Marcus.
He said, “Reina is very smart and meticulous.”
Tuesday shook her head, rejecting that simple explanation. “We’re smart. We’re meticulous. I called for a table around four thirty. This bitch somehow found out, flew up from Texas and set that trap in six hours. Nobody’s that good.”
Marcus sighed. “Bae, Reina was one of those child prodigies. She graduated from high school when she was thirteen and had a Master’s degree by seventeen. When I met her she was twenty-three and had already earned her second Ph.D.”
Tuesday was already intimidated by her looks, so hearing that she was also smart did not help her self-esteem. “So what, you sayin’ she like a genius or somethin’?”
“Well yeah.” Marcus was hesitant. “That’s exactly what she is.”
Tuesday crossed her arms over her chest. She was trying to decide if he was giving that bitch a compliment or merely stating a fact.
“She still got a thing for you. She didn’t go through all this just