Mike Jastrzebski - Key Lime Blues

Billy made up his mind, dropped his cigarette butt, and said, “Get off.”

“You can’t be serious,” Destiny’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I said get off, now.” Billy’s voice trembled, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the gun.

“Good thinking.” Bob waved the gun in front of him. “There’s something else you need to consider.”

“What?”

“You need to remember-I know where you work. If you even think about going to the cops I’m gonna come down here just like now when there’s no one around, and I’m going to break both your kneecaps-understand?”

“Yes sir,” Billy said.

“Good.” Bob stepped toward the scooter. “You don’t have to worry about the girl; I don’t want to hurt her. We’re gonna have us a nice little chat, that’s all. I’ll make sure she gets back home all right. Now why don’t you get the hell out of here?”

“Yes sir,” Billy repeated. At the same time he pushed back with his butt, forcing Destiny off the scooter.

“You son of a bitch,” she shouted when Billy started the bike. Sliding the purse off her shoulder she grasped it by the straps and swung it toward Billy’s head.

He ducked, cursed when it glanced off his arm, and once again nearly tipped the scooter. With a quick glare over his shoulder, Billy took off down the street as fast as the bike would carry him.

I used the distraction to edge up behind Bob. When Destiny turned to face him she saw me. She opened her mouth and I gave my head a quick shake, holding a finger to my lips.

She hesitated, but only for a moment. “How’s Frankie doing anyway?” she asked Bob. I admired the girl’s spunk.

“He wants his diamonds back,” Bob said.

“I don’t have ‘em.”

“Too bad, Destiny. In that case I’m gonna have to…”

At that moment I twisted my ankle on the uneven concrete. A flash of pain shot up my leg causing me to let out a sharp breath. Bob’s reaction was instantaneous. He swung around, dropped to one knee, and pointed the revolver at my stomach.

Destiny may have saved my life. She jumped forward without hesitation and swinging her purse like a mace she brought it down on Bob’s wrist. Whatever she was carrying in her bag made a dull thump when it hit and the revolver flew from his hand.

At the same time I threw the coconut. Bob ducked and the coconut zipped past his ear. When he started to reach for the gun I launched myself at him. My shoulder slammed into his face and I heard the cartilage snap in his nose. Bob let out a whoosh of air as I landed on top of his chest and then he lay still beneath me.

“Did we kill him?” Destiny’s face was flushed. Her voice rose an octave and her eyes opened wide with excitement. “He looks like hell.”

I rolled off Bob, pushed to my knees, and studied his face. She was right, he did look like hell. I looked around and made sure Willie wasn’t anywhere to be seen. When we were on the phone, Frankie made it clear the brothers wanted to break my legs because of what I had done down at the docks earlier. That was nothing compared to this.

Blood dripped from Bob’s smashed nose and there was a wide cut over his left eye. Reaching out, I touched his neck, searching for his pulse. I felt the throbbing, let out a sigh of relief, and jumped back when he coughed and opened his eyes.

His eyelids fluttered while he tried to focus on my face. He said something in a low whisper and I leaned forward in time to hear, “You’re a dead man, Darling.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuckin’ lousy name.”

“Yeah, well I’ve gotten used to it.” I pushed myself to my feet and added, “I couldn’t let you hurt the girl.”

Bob felt his nose and let out a hiss. “You broke it.”

I’m not sure how he could tell. His nose was flat and looked like it had been broken before, maybe more than once. Up close, I could see that several of his teeth were capped with gold crowns. I suspected Mister Bob had done a lot of fighting in his life, and it appeared he hadn’t always come out on top.

“You didn’t leave me a choice,” I said.

“I told you I wasn’t gonna hurt the broad.” Bob moved his hand from his nose, wiped the blood on his pants leg, and tried to sit up. “All I wanted was to get Frankie’s diamonds back. It didn’t even concern you-and now you went and made it personal between us.”

I used my foot to push him back down. “Don’t get up.”

Bob reached out, but I moved back out of the way before he could grab me. He shot me an ugly look. “You’re a dead man. And your girlfriend there is gonna join you if she don’t cough up those diamonds.”

“Maybe I should hit him again.” Destiny moved up alongside me, kicked out with her right foot and caught Bob in the ribs with the tip of her shoe.

Bob grunted and grabbed for her ankle, but I was faster.

“What are you, nuts?” I snatched her arm and dragged her away from him. “Didn’t you hear him threaten to kill you? I don’t think the man’s joking.”

“Fine.” Destiny pulled free of my grip, turned, and started off down the street. “I suppose I should thank you for your help, Mister Tough Guy,” she called out over her shoulder. “Of course you’d already be dead if I hadn’t stepped in to save your sorry ass. I’m out of here.”

“Hey, Destiny,” Bob tried to sit up again, and this time he succeeded. “I’m coming after those stones.”

Her body slumped, but she kept walking, calling out in the dark, “My name is Gail, not Destiny. You made a mistake, Mister Bob. I don’t have your diamonds.”

Bob turned his gaze to me and something about his stare told me I’d better stay out of his reach. “She looks like the picture Frankie showed me. Is she or ain’t she Destiny?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Keeping an eye on Bob I moved over to where the revolver lay. “I’m sure Frankie gave the same picture to my mother he gave to you.”

“Frankie is not going to be happy about this,” Bob said.

“I don’t really care at the moment.” I picked up the gun and pointed it at him. “Take off your belt.”

“You don’t want to do this.” His voice held an edge, and he spoke so quietly it took an effort to hear what he was saying.

I transferred the gun into my other hand and repeated, “Take off your belt.”

Bob shifted his gaze from my face to the gun and back to my face. I could almost see the gears grinding in his mind while he debated with himself, trying to decide if I was capable of shooting him. He must have read something in my eyes, because he reached down and started unbuckling his belt. Once he’d slipped it out of the loops, he held it out in front of him.

“Now toss it here,” I said. “And lay down on your stomach with your hands behind your back.”

Bob followed my orders and I formed the thin black belt into a loop. Holding the gun in my left hand I shoved the barrel into his back. With my right hand I slid the loop around his wrists, cinched the belt, and took off my own belt which I used to bind his feet.

I tucked the pistol into the back of my shorts. “You should be able to work your way free in a little while,” I said.

“Hey man.” Bob started to struggle with his bonds. “Don’t take my gun.”

“What am I supposed to do, Bob? You told me you were going to kill me. I’m not about to leave the gun with you.”

“I can maybe get over what happened between us today. That ain’t gonna happen if you take my gun. You might as well shoot me right now; because I swear I’m gonna get it back. And when I do, I’m gonna pistol whip you until you wish you’d never met me. After that, I’m gonna shoot you dead. That’s a promise.”