“I hope so. But, mostly, I want to know if they have good prizes. What’s the point of working hard to win if the prize isn’t good?”
Bump’s succinct view on effort and winning knocks a chuckle loose from me. “Yeah, Bump. You’re right about that. The prize has got to be worth the hustle.”
“I’m a good hustler. Isn’t there a song about that?”
I reach for Scarlett’s hand and squeeze as we take the tunnel from Jersey and are officially back in Manhattan.
“Yeah, bud. There is. Why don’t you tell Scarlett what you’ve been doing with Mike and Joanie?”
“I’ve been doingso much stuff.Big Mike let me push the button to crush a car yesterday. I worked really hard all week, and he finally said I could do it. You should’ve heard the crash. It wasawesome.And Joanie made enchiladas last night and let me eat a whole jalapeño. It wasso hot. I thought my mouth was on fire. I didn’t eat any more after that. But Big Mike told me that I’d learn to like them; I just need some more Puerto Rican blood.” His brow bunches, but he’s wearing a half grin. “I don’t know how I get that, but I sure do want it.”
“Ah ... I don’t know how you get that either, bud. You’re gonna have to ask Big Mike,” I reply, but Bump is already on to the next topic, and it reminds me of how damn much I love this guy. This is the longest we’ve been apart in over fifteen years, and I’ve missed the hell out of him.
“I wish Roux was here. I miss her,” Bump says with a slight frown. He’s been away from her all week, and I wondered how he’d do with the separation. “She misses me too, doesn’t she?”
“Of course she does,” Scarlett says. “She’s been my shadow every day she’s with me. Whenever I move from one room to another, she comes with me.”
“Roux is a good girl. I’m glad she’s with you a lot. She’ll keep you safe. Moses won’t get you if Roux is there. Not like he got me.”
A stab of regret rips through me when he says Moses’s name. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving Bump vulnerable to Moses for the second time.
I turn in my seat and face the back. “Are you sleeping okay? Have you had nightmares?”
“I had one, but when I told Big Mike, he knew how to cure it.”
“What did he do?”
Bump bites down on his lip and speaks through a closed mouth. It comes out a mumble, but it sounds like, “I can’t tell you.”
“Did Big Mike ask you to keep it a secret?”
Bump nods three times. For a second, I think he’s going to hold out on me, but he can’t do it. He opens his mouth and blurts out, “He took me to a titty bar, and I got a lap dance, and then I didn’t think about anything but Kitty’s pink pussy after that.”
Hal chokes in the driver’s seat as Scarlett slaps a hand over her mouth to cover her laughter.
I close my eyes for a beat and send up a prayer to the heavens for the Quinterro family. I owe Mike and Joanie a ton for keeping an eye on Bump, and even more for treating him just like he’s one of their own.
“You’re not gonna tell him I told you, are you? Because I really want to go back. Kitty was so pretty, Gabe. She had brown hair, and even though I couldn’t touch it, it smelled so good.”
“I’m not gonna tell him you told me. You know I got you, Bump.”
His grin threatens to split his face wide open. “It was even more fun than Skee-Ball, and that’s a lot of fun.”
Scarlett changes the subject back to the carnival, and Bump latches onto it and leaves the stripper talk alone—for now. I have a feeling we’ll be hearing more about it sooner rather than later. There’s no way in hell he gets his first lap dance from a stripper named Kitty without wanting to go back and do it again ... and again ... and again.
Big Mike might have just created a monster, but I’m not going to fault him for it if it got Bump’s mind off Moses.
Hell, I might as well just go change a hundred for a fat stack of ones just in case he has another nightmare. Maybe Big Mike is a goddamned genius.
By the time we roll up to the Fosse Center, the carnival is in full swing, from the looks of things. There’s a small park across the street packed with big inflatable bounce houses, and a stream of kids and adults heading into the building.
“I amsoready,” Bump says, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s do this.”
We climb out of the car, and I pause next to the driver’s door while Hal rolls down his window.
“I’ll park and come in. I can help watch over Bump.”
I scan the street and note at least a half dozen officers in NYPD uniforms helping control traffic and keeping an eye on the park.