Three Hot Wishes (Fantasy Come to Life - Magic in the Real World Novel) (30 page)

Sloane

My apartment didn't get to see me much after that. Angel still had had access to the suite at the Ritz for another couple of weeks, though I was sure that would vanish as soon as he got a fight scheduled and he flipped the script on Jessie and the Carellos.]

Hopefully...

I was skimming the New York ballet forums later than usual. Even though I should have gone to bed hours ago, I knew that finances were going to get bad soon, for both Angel and I.

Room service was still being paid for too, so at least we wouldn't starve while he trained and I tried to find some work that would further my career.

We. Listen to me. Angel and I... Well, was there even an Angel and I?

I liked to think there was, but he and I hadn't discussed it. He acted like that wasn't necessary, like it was simply unspoken that the two of us were in it until the Universe somehow managed to pull us apart.

Angel was out on one of his runs, and even though he'd be back soon I figured it would do me some good to get out of the hotel for a while and walk down the street for some groceries. After all, room service all day everyday sounds nice, but sometimes you just want a salad...

I threw a jacket on over what I was already wearing and headed down in the elevator, giving a little wave to Marcus, the hotel's doorman. He was the sort of guy that opened doors for you and wished you good day not just because it was your job. He actually meant it.

Marcus waved back, though when he saw I was headed out and not just down here looking for Angel, he headed over.

"Miss Sloane. Everything okay?"

I nodded. "Just headed down the street for some things."

He made a face, as if the very thought of a woman having to do such things at this hour was a tragedy, and not just the way it had always been for me. "Write down the items you require and I'll have them brought up with the morning paper," he said.

I knew he wasn't bluffing, too. Marcus prided himself on extending every courtesy to his clients, those people living, as he said, 'in his house'. Still, I was looking forward to the walk.

"I'm good," I told him. "But thanks for the offer. A chance to stretch my legs is exactly what I need right about now, anyway."

He gave me a grin and pointed down the street with a flourish of his white-gloved hand. "Very well. Two blocks down and one to the right, you'll find a store open all of these twenty four hours each and every day, designed for your convenience."

I laughed. Marcus always said stuff like that. It was if he were a relic of an earlier time, though I suppose that's exactly what he was, now that I thought about it.

"Stay safe," he said.

I wasn't too worried about that at least. Over the last week or so I'd seen enough to know that, poor or not, Angel really did have the respect of the people I rubbed shoulders with, in his part of the world. Everyone down here knew I was his girl, as he said, and there wasn't anyone game enough to mess with me, because it would quickly mean that Angel messed with them.

All of that will probably change, and change fast, if and when he wins his neck fight, I warned myself.

It was true, but for now I walked down the street with a purpose, composing a shopping list in my head. I'd get some things to make Angel some pasta. It was one of the few real dishes I felt like I'd been able to put my own unique spin on, and he was always looking for ways to bulk up his-

I'd gone the two block Marcus had directed. In fact, I'd almost missed the left turn he'd told me to make, though I quickly crossed the street and rectified that.

A screech of tires and the screech of a van's door being dragged open cut off my thoughts, and I whirled around in time to see a black guy behind the wheel staring at me. Behind him, a man I recognized was holding open the van's sliding door.

It was Nitro, the guy that had thrown Angel's fight a couple of weeks ago. "Get in," he said. "I'm not going to make a bunch of threats. I'm bringing you to Jessie. He wants Angel, but I figured you'd be able to talk some sense into him that your boyfriend wouldn't."

I got in.

Angel

Normally, I'd have been back to the hotel an hour or ago or more, but tonight I wanted to give Sloane her space.

She had a lot on her mind. Now that she knew the truth about me and the fact that money I'd been splashing around wasn't going to last, the fact that she didn't have a steady job must be even more frustrating.

It doesn't matter, I told myself angrily. Put that shit out of your head, or you're going to waste the only chance you have.

I wondered if I could trust Bruceman. Way back when I think he'd been a fight promoter. Either that, or a manager. The way the story went, the Carellos wanted him to 'work' with them on a match, and he refused. They'd asked again, with ever so slightly more insistence. After Bruceman told them to go to Hell, they'd had his boxer gunned down in broad daylight to send a message.

I didn't remember the name of the slain fighter, but there was no doubt that the man was the friend Bruceman had told me about.

I ran a little faster and lifted my legs a little higher, trying to burn enough energy that I could push myself into the zone, that place of tired repetition where thoughts like the ones I was having didn't have a place.

No luck, though. At least not yet.

If I won the match, would the Carellos really be down and out? I supposed that there was a chance. I mean, times were tough around here on everyone. Even the Carello brothers could make a mistake, and if they were certain I'd throw the fight, I could see them overextending themselves to bet against me.

I knew right then and there that there was no way I was going to throw the fight. Not this one, not the next, not any of the ones I'd ever step into the ring to fight. That wasn't what I was there for.

It wasn't who I was.

Which meant that I either got in against their fighter, a man they'd have handpicked to knock me out just in case I didn't play along, and won, or I didn't walk out at all. If I lost they'd assume I'd thrown it, and no amount of convincing them would work. I'd be under their thumb until I got out of New York, and with Sloane's dancing being based here I didn't know when that would be.

No, I had to win.

I picked up the pace even further, turning what was supposed to be a long jog into a sprint, making my lungs scream for air and my already tired legs scream for mercy. Three more blocks to the Ritz, and I wasn't going to stop until I got there. The easy way wasn't the right way, and I told my body to shut up and obey me as I raced home.

Two blocks. I could see the hotel now.

All I had to do in the fight was concentrate on what Sloane had been trying to drum into my head. Move my feet. Anticipate. Think of the world as a dance and look for the steps before they happen.

One more block. One more block and I'd go up and shower and show Sloane how much I'd been missing her all day. After that, if she was in the mood for talking, I'd tell her about the phone call I'd had with Bruceman. She always seemed to know what to say, and I found that I was already relying more and more on her advice.

It was strange, how a woman like that can slot into your life so perfectly. It had only been a week or so, but I already couldn't dream of a life without her.

I slowed to a jog again as I got to the Ritz. Marcus waved me down at the door before I could go inside.

"Angel!"

"Yeah?"

He was still wearing his ever-present smile, but I could tell that there was a layer of stress thrumming just underneath the surface. "Sloane went out for a few things. I offered to have them brought up to the room, but she said she needed some fresh air and a walk."

"Okay," I said.

"I sent her to the one down the street." He pointed, and I knew that he meant the CVS on 5th.

"How long ago was that," I asked, suddenly working out why Marcus was worried.

"Little more than an hour ago..."

Too long. "Cops?"

Marcus shook his head. "I didn't call anyone. I know you two are in a sensitive place. Involving the boys in blue may get her hurt, that's what I figured."

I nodded. "Good man." I took out my phone, looking for texts or missed calls and finding nothing. I stood there, trying to slow my breathing, and called her number.

Sloane

"So you're telling me that the next fight he's got to lose?"

Nitro shrugged. "He doesn't have to. I'm just telling you what happened to the guy before me for not throwing it. They killed him. I don't want that to happen to Angel. He's a good guy, or so everyone says."

"He is," I said, ready to jump to his defense.

Nitro and the driver had brought me to a warehouse downtown. Though it was abandoned for the night, there were wooden crates of boxed up dog food piled high in every direction. The doors had been unlocked though, so I assumed that whoever owned the place knew Nitro would be using it tonight.

Nitro nodded. "I figured as much. Look, I'm out. I stepped back from retirement so that your boyfriend could look good and knock me out. I got paid. I'm done, and I'm okay with that. But I'm not sure that he saw it for what it was, and that's dangerous."

I bit my lip. "The Carellos?"

"Everything comes back to them. One day soon, maybe only a couple of minutes before his next fight, they'll tap him on the shoulder and tell him what round to lose in. If he agrees, life could go okay. If he listens, actually does what he's told, maybe it'll even get better for you and him for a while."

I shook my head. "There's no way that's ever going to happen. Angel's not that kind of guy. He'd never agree to that." I saw the hurt look on Nitro's face and my heart sank. He had, after all, agreed to do exactly what I'd just said Angel was too good a man to contemplate. "Sorry... I didn't mean..."

He held up a big, scarred hand. The hand of a fighter, I told myself. "It's okay. I get it. You're right, I suppose. I just need you to know that if he gets it into his head that he can ignore them, the Carellos are ready and waiting to hurt him. If he gets bullheaded about the whole thing, remind him about a guy named Bruceman. Angel will know what I'm talking about."

"Okay."

"And I'm sorry for the whole van thing. These aren't guys you take chances with, and if you and I were seen together, word would get back to them. I don't want to find out what happens then, you know?"

I nodded.

"I called you a cab," Nitro said. "It's paid for and waiting outside."

"What happens to you now?"

He shrugged. "I retire like I meant to a couple of weeks ago. Someplace far away."

"Good luck to you, then," I said, wanting to hug him for helping but reaching out to shake his hand instead. "Thanks for caring."

He shook my hand and grinned. "It'll be the death of me, most likely."

I turned in the direction he'd brought me through the front doors and stepped outside. The cab was there, just like he'd said, and I got in. My head was spinning. I guess I'd already known how dark this street fighting world could be, but every time I thought I'd found the bottom it turned out I was wrong.

The driver started driving without being told where to go. I guess he'd been well enough informed, because he took me straight to the Ritz. I looked out the window for the first few minutes, wary that this was all some sort of trick, that I'd be taken to some secret location or something, but once I worked out we were going the right way I stopped worrying.

Nitro was a good guy in a bad world, just like Angel. And the world had a way of making sure that good guys finished last.

Once we pulled up to the hotel I thanked the driver and he pulled away as soon as my feet hit the concrete.

Marcus was there, beaming. "Miss Sloane! I was worried. Did you get yourself lost?"

"No," I said, trying to force happiness and failing miserably.

"But you've been gone for far too long, and that cab came from the wrong direction..."

I shrugged, and Marcus got the hint. I didn't know what I was going to tell Angel about the conversation I'd just had, let alone the doorman.

"Your man is upstairs," he said. "Just got back a couple of minutes ago to grab a shower. Better catch him. He's planning on scouring the streets of New York for his long lost love, right about now," he said with a smile.

"I'll tell him she's already arrived," I answered, hurrying upstairs to find him.

He was in danger, but I guess that was nothing new for him. He was a player in a rough world, and I was still trying to learn to handle myself in it too.