Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“None of ’em are in a women’s correctional facility asking for cash and clothes. What do you want this time?”
“I’ll keep this short and get to the point. My lawyer thinks he can get my sentence reduced. He’s workin’ on it right now. Well, he’ll start working on it as soon as he gets his money. I haven’t gotten in any trouble here in the last two years, so he says that’ll work in my favor.”
Your gamblin’ and busting bitches upside their heads don’t count, huh? If they find out about that numbers ring you got goin’ on in there, your ass is toast.
“Interesting concept.”
That’s all he had to say. Irish could read between the lines. Her nose had never been clean. She’d just not be tattled on, or caught. Until now.
“He’ll be calling you.”
“I’m sure he will, Irish.” He crossed his arms and began to pace back and forth while watching guys out of the corner of his eye do legitimate work for his front company—preparing cardboard boxes to be loaded onto a moving truck. “What’s his name? How much is the retainer and hourly rate?”
“His name is Jesse Quentino. $3,000.00 for the retainer, and he charges $450.00 an hour.”
“Jesus! What did you do? Go dig Johnny Cochran out the grave?!”
“Oh, come on, James! He’s only lost one case. One!” He could envision the woman waving her finger around to drive a point he couldn’t see home. “This guy is top notch, and I need it due to my past record. I don’t want to be in here anymore… it’s tearing me apart. Money is easy, right? Besides, you’ve got plenty of it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even have as much as you do!”
“Irish, don’t start that shit again.”
“It’s true! I am the one who set up your security system, got you up to date. State of the art! Thousands of dollars in liquor were disappearing outta those crates, so I put up those cameras myself and we busted those motherfuckers. They were stealing right under your nose.” He sucked his teeth and sighed. “…A little appreciation here, please!”
“I’m the one who said I was getting cameras for work. You just took the initiative.”
“However you carve it, the sculpture comes out the same.”
He burst out laughing. “Where the hell did you hear that from? You got a friend that’s into the arts or something?”
“Anyway… I don’t have a choice but to bug you.” Her voice turned low and almost childlike, sadness swimming in the tone. “Who else am I gonna call? Mama definitely isn’t an option. Our father is dead. My ex-husband wants nothin’ to do with me and has blocked me online and everywhere else. The only people I know who have money are my drug dealer friends, and I damn sure won’t be ringin’ their bell. I promise when I get outta here, I’m going to straighten up my life, James. I’ll walk the straight and narrow. Besides, you always say, ‘Money comes and goes.’”
“And with you, only the ‘go’ seems to be valid. You always count my dollars and never your own. Why is that?”
“’Cause I don’t have any more. Duh.”
“Even when you did, you still came to me. Oh, I’ve got it! The perfect solution… Why don’t you rent yourself out as a bodyguard in there and earn the money that way? Big bad Irish to the rescue.” He heard her sigh and grunt. This only urged him on. “Yeah, some of the weak ladies in there that need protection could hire ya to be like the muscle. ‘Irish Mafia’ could be your name. Catchy, huh?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“No, I’m serious!” He laughed. “You’re already beating up broads for free. Make it a business, I say. Might as well earn your keep. Okay, jokes aside, if I do this, you’ll have to pay me back just like everyone else. With interest, you freeloader.” He cackled.
“Oh, fuck you, James. You’ve got enough money to live life five times over and never bust a sweat. It’s not like you’ve been saving it up for your five kids’ college funds. I’ve never known a guy to get as much pussy as you and not have any mini-me spawn to show for it. You must’ve turned sterile after the bicycle accident in Kirby Park. Handlebars got cha right in the nuts! Or was it the fight with Ira? He kicked ya right in the berries. Either way, looks like your boys can’t swim!” She screeched, though he didn’t appreciate her humor in the least.
He thought of a snappy, stinging comeback, but then thought better of it. Irish had miscarried twins a few years prior with her ex-husband, and their son, his nephew Tyler, was being raised in Michigan during the summers by her ex’s family. Making a jab about children, though tempting, would be tantamount to a hit below the belt. Regardless of how his sister drove him clean out of his mind, he loved her more than anyone else in the world. She was a smart person. A good person. His best friend. The only person he halfway trusted. She’d been given a raw deal in life and got caught up.