Cameron Haley - Mob rules

We'd left the card room after one in the morning and gotten back to his loft about half an hour later. We'd started kissing before the front door was closed and we laid down a trail of clothes leading to the stairs up to the bedroom.

I'd mustered enough moral fortitude to mention the complexity of the situation we were getting ourselves into as I took off my clothes.

"This is probably a bad idea," I said as I sat on the edge of the bed and fought with my zipper. Adan was kneeling on the floor in front of me. His hands were on my breasts and he leaned in and kissed my neck.

"You should have thought of that before you got me drunk," he mumbled.

"Yeah, probably," I said, pulling off my jeans.

"Oh, well," he said, and nibbled my ear.

"Yeah."

"I'll still respect you in the morning."

"Really?"

"I mean, I won't respect you any less."

"Good enough."

We'd made love most of the night. We did it well enough that, like Honey's glamour, it didn't want to come unmade in the sunlight. Now was the time for morning-after regrets and self-recrimination, but I didn't have either. I was feeling pretty good about the world. After a few days of getting stuffed at the scrimmage line, I felt like I'd finally made some forward progress.

At the very least, we'd made it through the evening's activities without Adan's evil twin making an appearance. Maybe the potion was working, or maybe it was just dumb luck. Either way, I hadn't had any trouble falling asleep with him, and I still had all my skin where it was supposed to be.

Despite the weak protests of the night before, I'd blown by the point of no return in our relationship with a smile and a wave. Adan had been plenty of trouble already and he'd probably be even more when I told his father how it was. But I had the idea he'd be worth a lot more trouble than I'd actually get. I didn't feel inclined to worry too much about my boss unless and until.

There weren't many guys in L.A. I could ever have something with that amounted to more than a friendly roll in the hay. Most of the guys I met were interested in me because I was a gangster, and those were the ones I'd never take seriously. The rest weren't interested in me for the same reason, and those were the ones who made me feel sorry for myself. I couldn't hope for any better than a gangster's son who didn't care either way what I was. Adan, I knew, was a lot better than I deserved.

Adan stirred and then tilted my chin up to plant a kiss on my mouth. "Good morning," he said, grinning.

"One of the best," I said and kissed him back. "Sorry, my mouth probably tastes like I brought the casino home in it." Adan tasted just like he always did, like the apples and cinnamon on a freshly baked Washington. That didn't seem fair, and I wondered why I'd never worked up a spell for morning breath.

"It just tastes like you. I like it." As if to prove it, his head disappeared under the sheets and I stopped thinking for a while.

Later, we took a shower together, dressed and breakfasted on our cinnamon apple pizza. It tasted so much like Adan it was almost like making love again.

"Do you have to work today?" he asked when we were done.

"Yeah, actually, I have a lot to do." I looked at my watch. "I should get going."

"I want you to stay."

"I want to, too, but I can't. I still have a job, and it's more important than ever that I do it well. The only legitimate objection your father can make about this is that it interferes with my work." That wasn't the only reason it was more important than ever, but I didn't tell Adan that.

"You're a very responsible gangster, aren't you?"

I almost choked on my coffee. Spending the night with Adan was about as far as I could get from responsible. I wasn't going to feel anything but great about it but I wasn't going to call it responsible, either.

"This thing I'm working on," I said, "it's pretty important. About as important as my job ever gets. If it weren't for that, you'd have to kick me out."

"The murders," he said.

My eyes snapped up to him but I got a hold of them pretty quick. I shouldn't have been surprised he'd heard about it. The outfit is big for an outfit but small for anything else.

I nodded. "You heard about it, huh?"

"Yeah, and I heard you were working on it. I heard Jamal was one of the guys that was killed." He was looking at me like we were playing a poker hand.

"Yes, he was. His parole officer said Jamal was hanging out at the club. That's why I was down there that night."

Adan nodded, but his eyes didn't leave mine. "And after that?"

"After that, what?"

Adan just looked at me.

"I'm not here because of work, Adan. Is that what you think?"

"Maybe you think I'm involved somehow, because I knew Jamal."

"Jamal and the other guy were squeezed, Adan. It was a ritual execution, a hit. The killer is a sorcerer. You couldn't have had anything to do with it, and if I thought you did, this isn't the angle I'd take." I wished it were true, all the way around. I hoped my wishing would make it sound less like bullshit than it did to me.

"Yeah, okay. I didn't really think so, obviously, but I wanted to hear you say it."

I nodded as small as I could and smiled, and felt like shooting myself.

"If you want to ask me anything else about Jamal, I don't mind."

"If you know anything you think might help, I'll listen."

"Well, it's like I told you, I really didn't know him very well. Maybe a little better than I told you, that night."

I just nodded.

"We hung out after the club closed sometimes."

"You picked up girls at the club."

"Yeah, I guess. Jamal showed me his graffiti, too. He tried to explain how it worked, but I couldn't understand half of it. It was cool, though."

He looked up at me and I nodded again. "Jesus, Domino, you're still not going to ask any questions?"

"Nope."

"Okay. The thing is, I was at his apartment the night he was killed. Earlier, I mean. We were pretty drunk and we wanted to smoke some weed."

"What happened when you got to his apartment?"

"Finally a question. That's the thing, though, I don't know. I guess I drank too much and I blacked out. I woke up here the next morning and I couldn't remember much about it."

"You must have been pretty drunk," I said. "Shouldn't have been driving. Do you think Jamal drove you home?"

"I just don't know, and you're right, that's never happened to me before. I don't see how I could have made it home by myself."

"Maybe he drove you home and caught a cab back to his place."

"Yeah, I guess. When I heard about it, though-Jesus, it was like a bad movie. I thought maybe I did have something to do with it, you know, and just couldn't remember. Like temporary insanity or something."

"What did you do? Did you go to your father about it?"

"No fucking way. I only found out about Jamal yesterday. One of the guys called me. He said there had been two murders, and I knew I didn't have anything to do with the other one. Anyway, I didn't really think it was me. It was just weird, you know?"

"Yeah, I'll bet." I remembered how freaked out he'd been after the episode in his loft the night before, when I'd broken in. He'd had plenty of weirdness the last few days, and I was amazed how well he was holding it together.

"That's about it," he said. "You know, I just didn't want there to be any secrets."

"I'm glad, Adan," I said. "No secrets." I almost gagged on the words.

"So do you have any idea who did it? I mean, if you don't mind me asking. Do you think it was those guys I told you about? Papa Danwe's outfit?"

"I don't mind, but there isn't much to tell. That's what I'm working on, and that's why I have to go."

The look in his eyes said he'd noticed I didn't answer his question. "Do you think Manfred is involved? The reason I ask is, you know, he didn't like Jamal very much. And he could have followed us that night."