Size by A.W. Gray

Author:A.W. Gray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AudioGO
Published: 2013-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

10

Junior Gomez listened to Senor Emilio Garza Burista speak in Spanish. Junior nodded his head, indicating that he was listening, and walked to the red velvet drapes in front of the window. He pulled them aside, a sudden slash of light appearing on the carpet, and watched the cars streaming along on Fremont Street fourteen floors below. Jesus, his nuts felt as though they weighed a hundred pounds. Okay when he was sitting down, but standing or walking—

Burista finished speaking, sat back in the easy chair and folded his arms. His ankles were crossed on the coffee table and his lips were pursed firmly together.

Junior turned and faced the room, the drapes falling back into place behind him. “He says he don’t like the setup. You make a deal with one guy, another guy shows up. He says he’d rather talk face to face with Pecos Jimmy.” He gasped, holding a hand on his belly and closing his eyes against the pain.

From where he was sprawled full-length on the red bedspread, sitting up and supported by his elbows, Slim Burdine said, “S’matter wit’ you, Junior man? You hurt your back or something?” He reached up and tilted the Stetson back on his head.

“Yeah,” Junior mumbled. “Must have lifted too much. Doing curls.”

Beaumont Gurney leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The band on the Piaget stood out against his deep tan. “This isn’t like somebody showing up that you don’t even know, Junior. You’re just going to have to make Senor Burista understand. You make a deal with Size Brandon, it’s the same as making it with Jimmy. Jimmy doesn’t make eyeball-to-eyeball deals. And Size just couldn’t come to Vegas. He’s—he’s got business elsewhere. But talking to me is the same as talking to Jimmy, just like talking to Size is the same. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.” He was in the other easy chair, across the coffee table from Burista.

“Lay it on, bro Gurney,” Slim said. Then, to Junior, “Size Brandon’s the only con you know? Shee-it, Junior man. You know me, way back. Know me from Ramsey II, we old homeboys.” He fished a toothpick out of his shirt pocket and let it dangle from one corner of his big lips.

Ramsey II, Junior remembered. On the Ramsey II farm, Slim had bossed a pack of niggers that called themselves the Lobos. Baddest cats in the joint. Everybody—Aryan Nation wildeyed killers, Texas Syndicate boys—kept out of Slim Burdine’s way. The whole penitentiary pissed in its pants when the Lobos went on the prowl, even the warden. Not Size Brandon, though. Big red-headed gringo was a mob all to himself. Talked quiet, got along with everybody but busted heads like coconuts, anybody tried to fuck with him.

Junior shrugged. “I’ll give it a try, it’s all I can do.” In Spanish he told Burista that Beaumont Gurney was Pecos Jimmy Fontenot’s lawyer, his most trusted lieutenant.

Both of Burista’s bushy eyebrows lifted as he suddenly looked to Gurney with respect.

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