Don't Cry for Me by Sharon Sala

Author:Sharon Sala [Sala, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
ISBN: 9781459241138
Amazon: 0778313425
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

The day was clear and sunny, but once out of the shelter of the car, the cold wind cut right through Lonnie’s overcoat. He hunched his shoulders as he and Freddie walked between the rusting train cars. The old rail yard was a favorite place of his to do business. Out of the way of prying eyes, but still close enough to keep the drive from his townhouse to a minimum.

Bert Warwick was already there, leaning against the hood of a Silver Lexus and smoking a cigar. His driver was at the other end of the car, standing watch. Lonnie could smell the tobacco on the wind. His eyes narrowed as Bert took a big puff, then exhaled, sending another wave of smoke right at him. He knew exactly what Bert was doing, and it pissed him off. Blowing smoke in his face—in a show of understated intimidation.

Lonnie gauged the distance between Bert and his driver. At least six feet. That was Bert’s second mistake—the first being trying to pull a double cross.

Lonnie stopped within a few feet of the car, then jammed his hands in his pockets, as if to protect them from the cold.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

Bert shook the ash off his cigar and started to take another puff when Lonnie suddenly pulled a hand from his pocket and slapped the offending smoke out of Bert’s hands.

“What the fuck?” Bert yelled.

“That’s what I thought when I heard you wanted a bigger cut.”

A wave of red swept up Bert’s neck. It occurred to him that he just might have underestimated the man.

“I didn’t—”

Lonnie slapped Bert, then pulled his gun on the driver when the man started to make a move.

“You! Stay out of this.”

Freddie had his weapon trained on the driver now, so all Lonnie had to do was focus on Bert.

“Walk with me,” Lonnie said, using his gun to urge Bert away from the car.

Bert knew the ropes. Leaving the scene without backup was suicide.

“Come on, Lonnie. We don’t have to do this. You know how it goes. I was testing the waters, so to speak. You’re a new kid on the block in this business and—”

Lonnie grinned. “But that’s where you’re wrong, Bert. Before you tried to pull a fast one, you should have done your homework on me.”

“What do you mean?”

Lonnie shoved his gun up under Bert’s chin so hard it made the man bite his own tongue. Bert tasted blood but had the good sense not to move. Lonnie’s breath was warm on his face as he leaned closer.

“If you’d been a smart man, you would have found out that I had been cooking and dealing meth on my own since the age of twelve. I killed my first man at thirteen for welshing on a debt, and I got busted at the age of fourteen. When I came out of juvie I was eighteen and deadly. I don’t like liars. I don’t tolerate them. Did you lie when we made our first deal?

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