Free Fistful of Benjamins by Kiki Swinson Page A

can tell you this much, something about Carlos Ortega’s murder smells very fishy. And for some reason, I just keep thinking it has something to do with his job. Something to do with someone close by. Something to do with those packages we asked you about. I guess you can just say this is not my first time at the ballpark, so I’m a little smarter than the average gumshoe out there,” Sinclair said snidely. I didn’t know what else to say to that.
    Both detectives gave me a knowing glance before they walked out of the break room, leaving me there alone, paranoid and scared shitless. Now I had to decide just how much I was going to share with Eduardo.

CHAPTER 9
    GETTING OUT OF THE GAME
    â€œW hat the fuck you mean, you want out? ” Eduardo screamed after I told him what the detectives said. Finally this nigga was showing some emotion through all of this.
    â€œYou think it just works like that: One minute you’re in and the next minute you’re out? This ain’t the fucking postal service, Gabriella,” he barked.
    â€œEduardo, I don’t like the way those cops ended the interview. I’m telling you, it’s like they knew something and they were just waiting for the setup,” I explained with urgency, underlying my words.
    Eduardo waved his hand and exhaled a windstorm of breath. This nigga was not trying to hear me when I told him I wanted to quit our little arrangement. “You don’t have to be out there being all scared and shit. I really think they are snooping around, Eduardo. I have too fucking much to lose,” I said. It was the truth. Something about the way those detectives just abruptly ended the interview didn’t sit right with me. I was scared all day and all night after that.
    Eduardo, however, felt like everything was fine; that we had nothing to worry about.
    â€œI’m out, Eduardo. Tell them not to send any more packages, because I’m not going to intercept them. I’ll just let them go to whomever. I’m serious. I can’t and won’t do it anymore,” I kept insisting. Eduardo turned toward me, his face painted with an evil snarl. He rushed toward me and bulldozed into me so hard I stumbled backwards and twisted my ankle. I didn’t even have time to react before he grabbed my face roughly and got close enough to it that I could damn near taste his lunch.
    â€œLet me tell you one fucking thing. You are in it. There is no going back now, Gabriella. Understand something, these people we work for are not to be fucked with. I can’t just call up the fucking deadly Calixte cartel and tell them to stop sending their fucking product. It doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t stop until they say it stops. I will not have Lance breathing down my neck about these packages, so you better continue working it out however you been working it out. These are very dangerous people we are dealing with. You are all in and there is no backing out now or ever—except if your ass ends up dead,” he breathed hard in my face. I could’ve sworn I could see fire flashing in his eyes. For the first time since we’d been together I felt fearful of Eduardo. The kind of fear that makes you lose your breath.
    Â 
    That evening when I got home from work, I decided I was not going to speak to Eduardo at all, after his little tirade that morning. I wanted to get to my safe, count my money that I had been stashing, and start mapping out an exit plan. Fuck what Eduardo was talking about—I was getting the fuck away from it all. I had saved enough money to at least get me started someplace else. I wanted out of this deal before I ended up going to jail or worse, dead from a bullet.
    I turned my key in the lock to the apartment and stormed straight past the living room without looking. I knew Eduardo was home because I could hear voices from the TV. I knew my mother had my son, so there was no reason for me to stop, since I