Chapter 7 Terrible, Terrible Liar
Cedric's brain did that thing it always did when he was completely, utterly fucked.
It short-circuited.
And when Cedric's brain short-circuited, he laughed.
Not a nervous giggle or a polite chuckle, but a full, unhinged laugh that burst out of him like a dam breaking. The kind of laugh that made people check if you were having a mental breakdown, because you probably were.
"You're asking me?" Cedric wheezed between laughs, his shoulders shaking. "That's fucking hilarious. You've got security footage, files, my entire life story apparently, and you're asking me who sent me?"
Gianni's hand was still on his jaw, warm and possessive, and Cedric could feel the exact moment the grip loosened.
Not tightened. Loosened.
That was worse somehow.
Gianni took a step back, his hand falling away, and when he spoke again, his voice had dropped so low that Cedric had to strain to hear it over the club's pulsing bass.
"I see."
The two men on either side of the booth tensed immediately, their relaxed postures evaporating. One of them actually reached inside his jacket, and Cedric's manic laughter died in his throat as his survival instincts finally kicked in.
Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
Think, Cedric. THINK. You've talked your way out of worse situations than this. That time the client's wife came home early. That time the dealer thought you were skimming. That time Ray found your stash and you convinced him it was aspirin. You can do this. You just need to lie better than you've ever lied in your entire life.
"Look," Cedric said, forcing his voice into something resembling calm reasonableness. "I don't know what you think is happening here, but—"
"That's adorable," Gianni interrupted in that same deadly quiet voice, and somehow the word 'adorable' coming from him sounded like a death sentence. "You think I'm asking because I don't already know."
Cedric's foot started bouncing against the floor, his fingers drumming against his thigh. His body refused to stay still even though every rational brain cell he had left was screaming at him to shut up and stop moving. But fidgeting had always been his tell, the thing he did when he was lying or scared or both.
Stop it. Stop fidgeting. You're giving yourself away.
But he couldn't stop. He never could.
"I think—" Cedric started, then caught himself. Don't think. Just talk. String together words that sound believable. "I think you're being a little dramatic about this whole thing. I needed a job. Your club was hiring. That's it. That's the whole story."
One of the men muttered something in Italian that Cedric couldn't understand.
Gianni's head tilted slightly, and a smile spread across his face. Slow, deliberate, beautiful.
Absolutely terrifying.
"A job," he repeated, like he was tasting the word. "You needed a job, so you just happened to apply to work at my club, on opening night, after getting dropped off two blocks away by the police."
Cedric's eyes rolled before he could stop them. It was a reflex, an involuntary response to authority that had gotten him slapped by teachers, punched by his stepfather, and fired from more jobs than he could count.
Shit. Don't do that. Don't antagonize him. You need him to believe you.
But his mouth was already moving, that defensive sarcasm kicking in like it always did when he was cornered.
"Wow, cameras and files and scary speeches. Yeah, I got a ride. So what? I don't have a car. You want me to apologize for accepting a lift?"
Keep talking. Keep him off balance. If you stop talking, he'll realize you're full of shit.
"The police thing—" Cedric's mind raced, grabbing at straws. "That was just... Look, I got pulled over for some bullshit last week. Possession. They said if I gave them information about dealers in my neighborhood, they'd drop the charges. So I did. I told them some stuff, and they gave me a ride tonight because my usual guy was busy. That's it. It's not some conspiracy."
It was a terrible lie. Cedric knew it was a terrible lie even as the words left his mouth. But it was all he had, and $55,000 was riding on Gianni believing at least part of it. His mother's rent. Lily's safety. Two weeks until the debt collectors came back.
He couldn't blow this. He couldn't lose Marcus's payout. Not when it was the only thing standing between his family and a bullet.