Read Online Upside Down by John Ramsey Miller - Free Book Online Page A

with her legs crossed and admired him. He was the only man she had ever loved—ever cared about at all. “Are you hungry?”
    “No. Just tired.”
    “I'll cook you something. I've got some of the wine you like and I picked up some prime steaks.”
    “I got a triple this morning,” he said.
    She shrugged. “So did I. That prick Cecil Mahoney and two of his little geckos. I just pinched off their teensy little heads.”
    “I didn't think that pig was telling the truth, but Bennett did. Mahoney was insane. Anyway, I found Amber and got back the envelope. And I brought your fee. Bennett was pleased by your triple, even if it wasn't the right triple.”
    “I'm happy he was pleased,” she said sarcastically.
    “He invited me to bring you to his club tonight, but I told him you are a simple girl who doesn't care for noisy places.”
    “What I don't care for is bad food, boom-boom music, watered-down drinks, sweaty people, and flashing lights. And I especially don't care for your boss. He should work in a circus.”
    “He pays me good money and I have complete protection, which doesn't exactly hurt you.”
    “I handle my own protection. And I prefer working for different clients and taking the assignments I want to take. The money is better than working for a single person.”
    “Less long-term security,” he argued.
    “Nobody who needs our services can offer long-term security.”
    “So you don't want the piddling amount Bennett sent to you? Twenty thousand is not bad for killing the
wrong
people.”
    “It was good exercise. I helped only because I love you, Arturo. As always, I will back you up. Not for the money, but because you need me.”
    “I'll keep the twenty then.”
    “I will take the money and invest it, because you will only waste it on toys you can't be bothered to learn to operate. You are too impatient, Turo. That is a bad thing.”
    She stared at the lines of scar tissue scattered over his torso, made by knives, and the four familiar bullet wounds, left from three separate incidents. “You are like an alley cat, Turo. But for your battle scars you would have a perfect body.”
    “I think of my scars as a road map of my life.”
    His offhand comment filled her with sadness. “It isn't how you learn something, it's how you use the knowledge.”
    “Always preaching,” he said curtly. “Church is out. I don't need your advice. I am a man, a professional, so let's drop it.”
    He cut off the water and dried himself with the towel she tossed him. After he had combed his hair and wrapped the towel around his waist, she said, “Even with the scars, you are just too pretty. Those long eyelashes, the brows, those big golden eyes, and lips any woman would kill to have for herself.”
    He tensed at the reference to femininity, as she knew he would. But it was true.
    Arturo took her face between his hands, kissed her hard on her lips, and stared into her eyes. His amber-colored eyes held her soul and he knew it. “You love me.”
    “I love you, Turo.”
    “Love is a weakness. It will get you killed, Marta. That is my sermon to you.” Arturo turned and left the bathroom.
     
    After they ate the steaks Marta cooked for them, and while she washed the plates, Arturo sat at the table smoking a cigarette.
    “I thought you quit,” she said, concerned.
    “I quit all the time,” he answered. “I'll quit again tomorrow.”
    “It's bad for your wind.”
    “It relaxes me. I work hard so I deserve to feel good.”
    “Things that feel good aren't always good for you.”
    “You know, you should preach on television.” He crushed out the cigarette and turned on the big plasma-screen set. A reporter was standing in front of an old building.
    “Look!” he said excitedly. “I made the news!”
    “. . . And we understand that police are searching for a twelve-year-old girl, one of the victims' daughter, who my sources inside the police department tell me might have witnessed her mother and another woman