For Nothing Read Online Free Page B

afterthought, Rafael turned around and grabbed the man by the col ar of his welfare duds.
    With a quick yank, Rafael stood nose to nose with the homeless man.
    “Take that money and eat something for fuck’s sake! I swear to whoever you cal God that you wil meet him if I catch you buying a drink with that twenty.”
    Before the startled man could nod, Rontego let go of the beggar’s lapel and moved on. Wiping his hands on the folds of his jacket, Rontego entered the club in front of him. The parking lot was al but deserted at this hour, yet he knew that inside there were at least half a dozen guys.
    Rumors was a nice enough place, for people who went out.

Chapter 4
    Alex awoke to the alarm’s incessant beep ringing in his ears. He rol ed over to turn the damn thing off and let out a groan. His head was pounding and the infernal spring in his back was always a pleasant way to greet the day. Alex rol ed back the other way toward his nightstand.
    “God, what the hel was I thinking,” he groaned aloud to no one in particular.
    The bottle of Jim Beam smirked down upon him, Alex Vaughn, its latest trophy. Alex rol ed into a sitting position and shook his fist at the bottle. It won this round.
    Alex cleared his throat and looked back at the clock. It was 9:00 a.m. He grunted again; his captain would be pissed. Lucky. He was between undercover gigs or this would ruin everything. Alex picked up the phone and dialed in to the precinct.
    They wouldn’t mind him taking a few days off; after al this was a personal tragedy. It was about to get a lot more personal too.
    After a brief conversation with the desk sergeant, Alex hung up the phone and went into his travesty of a kitchen. Stil in his boxers and plain white tee, Alex mixed together some instant coffee, extra caffeinated. He saw his answering machine blinking. Twelve messages and one guess what they were al about. He ignored the blinking red light.
    He threw on a pair of jeans, his snow boots, took his weapons off his nail in reverse order and put on his brown leather jacket.
    Stil , the blinking light assaulted his eyes. He picked up the phone and looked at the cal er I.D.; she cal ed. Twice. He flipped open his cel phone.
    She was one of very few people who had that number. She cal ed there too .
    Charlotte .
    One message. Her voice sounded musical, as it always did.
    “Alex, I heard. Jesus Alex I heard. If you don’t want to go tonight, that’s fine. I don’t even know if it’s a good idea. I mean, what are we doing anyway?
    We should be moving on. Christ, I hate voicemail.
    Cal me.”
    He looked out his window. It was beginning to snow, and with an annoyed huff Alex went into his bedroom closet and grabbed a pair of brown leather gloves and his brown beanie.
    He flipped open his cel and hit a button to return the cal . She answered on the second ring.
    “Hel o?”
    She sounded even better in real life.
    “Charlotte, it’s me Alex.”
    She gave a nervous giggle. “I know Alex; it says it on my phone. How are you? I’m so sorry.”
    “I’m alright. It wasn’t me that was shot.” The words sounded hol ow. He knew she wasn’t fooled either.
    “Okay? I just wanted to let you know it’s okay if you don’t want to go tonight.”
    Alex felt his grip tighten on the phone. “No, it’s okay. I’ve been trying to get you to meet me for weeks now.”
    Alex walked over to his nightstand and pul ed out the two tickets to Shea’s Theater. Bribing her with tickets to a musical was the only way she would agree to see him, even on her birthday.
    “I’m stil not sure it’s a good idea.”
    “I’l see you there at seven.”
    Alex hung up before she could protest. The truth was he needed to see her. He felt numb. He studied the tickets for a moment and then put them in his jacket.
    Alex looked around. He was forgetting something. He glanced at his nightstand one more time and a Saint Christopher medal ion hanging on a silver chain, tossed over his bottle of Bean.