Noah stepped into the lobby from the port corridor, the wickedest grin on his face. My heart wedged itself in my throat. Each breath I took was suddenly a monumental effort.
He smiled at patrons as they wandered back and forth across the lobby. "Come to the office, guys. We can talk there!"
My guts jumped inside me. I hadn't seen Noah up close for years. Except in my dreams. He looked just the same, but perhaps his recent plots and schemes had taken their toll; his face looked softer, more drained, more care-worn than it had done three years before.
Breathe, Zeph. Confident as fuck, Zeph. Just like Noah.
"No. We're talking outside." Despite the whirling of my insides, I spoke with enough ferocity that a patron overheard, turning sharply toward us.
Noah gave her a gracious smile, then clapped me on the shoulder like a cool uncle watching over drunk nephews. "Sure, man. Could use a little fresh air!"
The patron turned away toward the reception desk, leaving us alone again. It occurred to me that the patrons were members of the law-abiding public, Maria gamblers who expected La Rosa to have standards. Standards like not killing anyone. Any patron could have taken a wrong turn aboard La Rosa to find Raheem half-dead in the bilges, or Jones fully-dead in the engine room, and called the police.
Noah was probably sailing so dangerously close to the wind because La Rosa was the only place that he could hide Raheem, and Jones's corpse, without Sigma finding out. Looked like Noah had two weaknesses: money, and the need to hide Jones's death from Sigma until the time was right.
Noah nudged us both outta the lobby door and down the ramp to the empty wharf. Looked like there were too many gamblers and taxis outside for Noah's comfort, because he led us past lonely berths, Raheem limping along with me toward Noah's chosen spot behind a shipping container. I'd expected an entourage of meatheads bristling with guns to meet us, but the wharf stood empty. Where were Noah's minions?
Movement in my peripheral vision answered my question. Leaning against the container with a pistol trained on us stood the same guy who'd led me to a practice room earlier in the night, the bruised knuckle in a suit.
Raheem quaked beside me. I slid a trembling arm around his waist, and clenched my jaw tight to stop the chattering of my teeth.
Courage, Zeph.
"Jun-su! You are so good at escaping!" Noah strolled up to us with arms outstretched like we were all best buddies. "Eddy's gonna put you back," he pointed at Raheem, "and I'm gonna end you," he squeaked at me in falsetto.
It was an empty threat, and he knew it. There was no way Noah would let a gunshot be heard in the vicinity of La Rosa, and drowning me wasn't exactly gonna be quiet. Not if Noah wanted to keep the police off his back and the casino dollars rolling in. I had time to strike a deal.
Noah motioned to Eddy, who approached us with his pistol aimed point-blank at Raheem. I recognized the name. Eddy. Eddy Santiago? Ana Maria's father? My mind scrambled to drag from my brain-shelves everything that Teresa had said about him. He'd helped Jones to topple Chavez. He'd burned through his hush-money, forcing him to return to Sigma, his daughter too. Hadn't Ana Maria agreed to my ransom job just to get money for her broke father?
Raheem fell to his knees beside me, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I'll go back. Just let Zeph go. He won't cause you trouble again. Please."
"Still calling yourself Zephyr?" Noah leaned close and cupped my chin.
My skin crawled. Acid rose into my throat. I shoved him away, sending him skidding along the wharf.
"Gotten so strong," he whistled as he steadied himself.
YOU ARE READING
The Sigma Asset 🏳️🌈 (bxb)║AMBYS WINNER 2022
Mystery / Thriller**AMBYS 2022 WINNER** He'll never play piano again. That's what virtuoso pianist Zephyr has vowed to himself after escaping Sigma, the sprawling criminal organisation that once held him--and still holds his friends--captive in California's mega-city...
