Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Before I can say anything else, she pushes the door open and walks toward her house. I watch her go with a pang in my chest. I can’t stop feeling like I somehow just missed a chance, that I should’ve said something or done something.
But what? She’s a young woman with a sick relative, going to parties, trying to make her way in the world. Still, I can’t fight my gaze as I stare at her hips shifting from side to side, that just-Maya sway of hers.
She opens the door, turns, waves. I wave back. It’s not much, but it feels much more significant than it should.
As I drive away from her house, I feel like I should be turning back. I should be in bed with her, maybe just lying there or holding her. I don’t usually let my mind wander to places like this. That’s probably because I never thought I would have somebody to obsess over.
Obsess? This night has got my head twisted up far more than I realize if I’m thinking shit like that. I’m almost relieved when my cell phone rings, even if it’s Raffie. His voice is furious over the speakerphone. “You embarrassed me tonight.”
“You owe me fifty K,” I snap. “Tell the organizer.”
“Are you kidding? You’re lucky he’s not chasing your ass down. I had to beg to stop the Family from making a big deal out of this. I’m still not sure they won’t, T. Why did you have to do that?”
I almost slam my head down on the steering wheel, but what would be the point? Anger won’t get me anywhere. It’s probably what Raffie wants—some sign this situation is shaking me up.
“They. Were. Kids. One of them was a goddamn girl. What did you expect me to do, mess all three of them up?”
“You need to watch your tone.”
“I don’t need to watch anything.”
I’m not playing this right. This world I’ve fallen into—no, fuck that—thrown myself into is just too dark and messed up. I’m working with the people who, under different circumstances, I’d be hunting down. I’d be taking out.
“Answer my question,” I snap. “What did you expect?”
“For you to do as you’re told.” Raffie’s tone grows dark as I cruise through the city, heading for the apartment blocks near the waterfront. I’m not going straight home. I’ve got another stop to make, more business to settle.
“Did you hear me?” Raffie hisses.
“You must’ve known I would never do that. You must’ve known that, Raffie.”
“You think you’re above us. You only hurt people if they’ve hurt others—oh, no women, no kids. Who do you think you are? I already told you there are no private contractors in this life. Get used to it. You’re going to have to, anyway.”
“The fuck you mean by that?” I growl, trying not to tear the steering wheel loose. My hands ache, and the strikes I landed are painful despite the gloves.
“I had to do something to save your ass,” Raffie says. “Tomorrow, you’ll get a visitor at the doggie home, alright? Just work with the guy. Try not to be a jackass about it. It’s the best I could get you. The Vegas guys wanted to burn the home to the ground.”
“That would be a very bad idea for them,” I say coldly.
“This is big time, T. Don’t act tough. You won’t like it. I’ll have more info on who it is tomorrow.”
“If they set even a single match in that place, I’d make it my sole objective in life to hunt their asses down. Any sway you have over me, any of you, is because I need that place. Take it away from me, and you’re all fucking done.”
“Just work with the guy,” Raffie snaps, then hangs up.
I grit my teeth, knowing it’s time I did the right thing. I’m in too deep. These people are more fucked up than even I could guess.
I call Tank.
“Yo, T. How was the fight?”
“I’m driving to your apartment now to talk about it.”
“That hot, eh?”
“They’ve gone too far. This is bigger than the home. They’re trying to pull me deeper.”
Tank pauses. I can sense he’s weighing his words. We both know he’s been waiting for this moment, waiting for me to wake up from the Trentini spell. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“Burn them all. Then, I’ll figure out a way to keep my home afloat. In the meantime, I need you to help me offload some firearms.”
“Jesus—”
“I know,” I snap, “but what do you want me to do, go through the Trentinis? They need to know I’m done with them, and I need the cash.”
I was relying on the fifty K, at least. It’ll mean giving up most of my rifles and shotguns, but I’ll keep a few.
“Don’t sweat. It’s a fair trade,” I tell him. “I’ve got a gift for you.”