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dress, Itaba walked past the slot machines. She had the gift bag with her.
    “Lady Luck,” I said. I cashed out and followed.
     
    *  *  *
     
    She walked through the hotel, outside and past the pool, to a ground-floor suite. There was tape on every window, to stop the storm winds from smashing them to flying bits. When she opened the door, I moved. I pushed the door open and pushed her in. I pulled out the gun and aimed it at her.
    “Bruto,” she said.
    She was on the floor and her wet skirt was up around her waist. Her thighs were smooth, copper.
    “Don’t even think about it,” she said.
    “I wasn’t,” I said, and then she kicked me hard in the shin. “Fuck,” I said.
    “You only care about yourself. I know you. I know how men like you are.”
    I smirked at that. “How about you? You took me to that park and left me to hang for the cops.”
    “That was not my idea.”
    “The guy with the weird head?”
    “Si. Kaonabo. It was his idea.”
    “Ka-no-bo? Wow, what a mouthful.”
    “He is my husband.”
    “No shit,” I said and went to close the blinds and the curtains on the windows. I kept my eye and the gun on her the whole time. “So what’s up with his forehead anyway?”
    “The Tainos believe that a flat forehead was a sign of beauty,” Itaba said. “Taino mothers carried their babies on their back on a board tied to the baby’s forehead to make it that way. His real name is Pedro.”
    “He’s one serious dude.”
    “Oye me. I wanted you along, negrito, because I knew he would do something like this. Like you say, he’s very serious.”
    “You were looking for a bodyguard, then, not a patsy? I don’t know about that.”
    “You have to believe me.” She kicked off her shoes, lay back on the couch, her body open. Her wet hair covered part of her face. She looked delicious. “I wanted protection. Your cousin used to talk about you all the time. A big man. You do karate, she said.”
    “Aikido. I used to,” I said. Suddenly, I felt like I needed a drink. But there was still a knot in the bottom of my stomach.
    “She had your picture in her room. You had a vulnerable face. I liked it.”
    I was standing above her. Water dropped from my hair onto her thighs.
    “What was that stuff your husband made me inhale?”
    “Cohoba. A hallucinogenic.”
    “I’ve had worse. I imagined a dog that tried to bark but couldn’t.”
    “That is very interesting,” she said. “The Tainos had mute dogs.”
    “Nice,” I said. “That dog saved my life.”
    I could smell her scent, musky and earthy. Her warm, wet clothes clung to her body like a dark second skin.
    “What happened to your lady friend?” she said.
    “Hurricane canceled her flight,” I said. “Where is your husband?”
    “He went to meet the buyer.”
    I was on my knees, the gun still in my right hand. Then I put my hands on her calves and began to move them up her legs, dragging her dress back and dragging the gun across the copper of her thighs. Goose bumps rose up and down her skin.
    “What are you doing, negrito?”
    “Nothing,” I said, standing up. I leaned way down, looking right into her eyes. I kissed her. She let me. But her lips stayed cold. I tried again. No sale.
    “Are you done?” she said.
    “Looks like I am.”
    “Your cousin also told me you were a mujeriego —a womanizer.”
    “I know what it means,” I said. “Wait till I see Carmen again.”
    I was half hanging off the couch. I should’ve seen it coming.
    Itaba kneed me hard in the balls and yanked the gun easily out of my hand. I curled up and she kicked me off to the side. I smacked the coffee table with my head and hit the floor.
    Coco duro . I looked at the ceiling and sighed. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
    She sat up on the couch and didn’t even bother pointing the gun at me. “Oye me, negrito. Kaonabo is coming, and he’s dangerous.”
    “Looks like you can take care of yourself fine.”
    “He doesn’t just want to sell the cemi to buy land.