Chapter 10
Alex
I’m in bed, staring at the white popcorn ceiling of my bedroom and thinking about the night I just had.
Even though I first saw Alonzo at Jacob’s club, it never occurred to me that he might return someday, much less on a day when I would be working.
I wonder what ruse Jacob used to get him to The Den. For some reason, he’s still very secretive about their meetings.
I close my eyes, and my mind travels to a few hours ago. Goosebumps move down my neck as I remember how Alonzo looked at me when I was on the stage, and then later when I gave him a private dance. I can still feel his warm arms around my body and his deliciously intoxicating smell.
Flutters pool in my lower stomach. I squirm in bed, tightening my legs.
With a deep sigh, I open my eyes and look at the stacks of money on the bed next to me. I grab a stack and fan the bills above me.
Before leaving the club, I tucked the leather bag into my purse so Jacob wouldn’t question me. When I got in my car, I threw my purse under my seat just in case. I kept thinking about the money the whole drive back to my apartment. I didn’t know how much money was in the bag, but it was heavy and stuffed to the brim.
As soon as I walked into the safety of my apartment and knew nobody was watching, I dumped the money on my bed and counted it. It was fifty grand, more money than I had seen in my entire life. It didn’t feel real when I first counted it, and it still doesn’t feel real now.
I inspected a hundred-dollar bill to make sure it was real. Honestly, I don’t know a thing about telling real money from fake money, but the bill looks real. I compared it to a dollar bill I got as a tip earlier in the night, and the material on both bills looks and feels the same.
The money is proof that Jacob is right. Alonzo is rich and is sitting on a mountain of cash somewhere nearby. If I can get some of that money, my mom and I will be set for life.
But is the risk worth it? Normal people don’t have this large amount of cash on hand. Alonzo must have done terrible things to earn that much money at such a young age.
This is probably blood money, I suddenly think, fanning the cash. Surely, all his money is blood money, including what Jacob wants to steal from him.
I took an ethics class my sophomore year, but the scenarios covered in class seem useless in real-life scenarios like these, when money can actually help good people like Mom. Or am I just rationalizing my morals away?
Always the overthinker , I sigh. I drop my arms and the stack of bills by my sides and look at the ceiling again. Doing quick mental math, I know I can pay off the student loans I have accumulated so far—around thirty-seven thousand, give or take a few hundred bucks. I had to use student loans to pay for living expenses before I started working at The Den. Living in a one-bedroom apartment in this town is not cheap.
I can use the remaining money to pay for the remainder of my senior year. If I use it wisely, I can even use some of it to cover my living expenses without having to work at The Den—although I don’t know how Jacob would react if I quit out of the blue. He would probably throw a fit.
Alonzo’s money will certainly help a lot, but it’s not a long-term solution. I still need money to cover my mom’s medication for years to come.
I have to go through with Jacob’s plan.
I need to gain Alonzo’s trust.
???
The next day, Alonzo teaches us about the shapes that make up the human body. Unlike his first lecture, we don’t have to draw an actual human, which is a relief. And sure, my cones and ovals aren’t as good as Isabella’s, but they’re not bad.
I’ve been trying to gauge Alonzo’s attitude since class started. Once in a while, he glances in my direction, instantly teleporting me to last night and remembering how his hungry stare burned against my body. Just the thought of him wanting me brings chills behind my neck.
Still, despite his glances, I can’t seem to read his mood at all. I’m glad he’s not teasing me about last night because I would die from embarrassment, but isn’t that the whole point? To make him think I’m head over heels for him?
“Want to grab lunch after class?” Isabella whispers as we near the end of class. “There are some friends you might like to meet.”
“Um,” I start, not entirely sure how to politely turn her down. She has been nice to me so far, but I’m not interested in meeting other art students. In fact, I’m not much of a socialite among business majors, either.
I tried to make friends freshman year, but my social life basically came to a halt my sophomore year when Mom got diagnosed with MS. Taking care of her on weekends and keeping up with school, work, and friends became too much. Something had to give in, so I decided to focus on school and work.
“They’re nice people,” Isabella continues. “Their art skills vary a lot, so there’s nothing to be intimidated about.”
“It’s not that,” I say. I’m about to tell her I’m not hungry, but my stomach growls before I can finish the sentence. “But you know what? Yeah, I’ll join you. I just need to speak with Professor Alvarez first.”
“Sure, no problem,” she smiles. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
When class ends, I lag behind until all the other students are gone. Alonzo looks at me from his desk as I approach me. It bothers me that I still can’t read his face.
“Thank you for the money,” I say.
His dark eyes scan mine. The way his eyes pierce into mine makes me feel like I’m once again standing half-naked before him. Before he can respond, I say something that has been simmering behind my mind all morning but wasn’t sure I would say.
“But I can’t take the money,” I finish. A pit forms in my lower stomach as the words leave my mouth. The fifty grand could have been a life changer, but can I really enjoy it if my brain reminds me it’s blood money every time I use it?
“Why not?” he asks plainly.
Shit. Why not?
I wasn’t planning on rejecting the money, so I didn’t come up with an excuse for why I can’t accept it. And I definitely can’t tell him where I think the money comes from. If I did, he would know that Jacob told me about his former life in the mafia. He might suspect something.
“I can’t just take fifty grand from my college professor,” I say. “I don’t even know why you were in a place like that to begin with.”
His eyes darken. “I don’t understand why you would be in a place like that.” There’s a tone of annoyance in his voice. “You like men watching you dance around in a bikini?”
His accusation strikes me with such a force that I take a step back. I work at The Den out of necessity, not because I enjoy having crusty middle-aged men hitting on me. The fact that Alonzo thinks I enjoy working there angers me, and without thinking, I shoot back.
“What do you care what I do outside of class? You’re just some random professor.”
His lips twitch. A second later, he’s on his feet, towering over me.
“You’re done working at The Den,” he says matter-of-factly. “You are fifty grand richer. There’s no need for you to return to that place.”
“Did you just hear me?” I raise my voice enough to make my point clear but quiet enough so Isabella, who I assume is still waiting for me in the hallway, can’t hear me. “I’m not taking your money. I don’t know where it came from.”
He straightens his tie in silence.
Shit, did I just fuck up ?
He licks his bottom lip. “Right. If you work at The Den, you probably know what Jacob and his men do on the side. You probably think I’m involved with them, right? You think my money is drug money? Well, it isn’t.”
Of course it’s not drug money. It’s murder money.
I guess I have doubt written all over my face because he continues, “If I prove the money is clean, will you keep it?”
“How will you prove that?” I ask. I’m not going to pretend I don’t know about the drugs that Jacob and the reapers peddle. It’s better if he believes I think his money is drug money and not mafia money.
“Meet me tonight. I’ll show you.”
“I work tonight,” I say.
He tightens his jaw. “No, you don’t. You have enough money to live off of, at least until your graduation. Or do you need more money?”
More money?
“I haven’t agreed to take your money in the first place,” I remind him.
“Just give Jacob a bullshit excuse. Tell him you got sick or something. After tonight, I’m sure you’ll take the money and never return to that place.”
That’s exactly what I want.
Still, I don’t understand why it bothers him that I work at The Den. He doesn’t even know me. To be honest, I am a little curious to see how he will prove the money is clean.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll come up with an excuse for Jacob.”
The muscles around his mouth relax. His lips look like they’re about to smile, but instead he says, “Good. I’ll see you tonight.”