****
Braxton
“Where are you going?” I glance out the window after checking my phone. My gut clenches. Something’s not right. Franco’s not going to the usual drop off point. He’s headed toward the Battery Park tunnel.
“We’re making a pit stop. I got a message from Gaetano.”
I grit my teeth. Gaetano, the future king of the underworld, and my nemesis. “What’s he want?”
Franco shoots me a sidelong glance. “I told him you dealt with Milo. He has a few questions.” Red flag number one.
“About?” I try to sound annoyed, nonchalant, anything other than panicked.
“He’s gonna want details about NYU. You and Milo were the only ones casing that joint, and now that you turned Milo into shark bait, he wants details from the last man standing.”
Augie snorts from the backseat. “Maybe he wants to talk about how you can’t whack someone without puking your guts up like a bitch. Get you some counseling or some shit.”
Weakness. It’s what gets you killed if you’re not careful. Who the fuck knew they’d be right on my ass with the body?
Franco smirks. “Never seen that much puke in my life, B. Maybe you’re going soft on us.”
My trigger finger itches to pop two bullets – one through each of their foreheads. Franco slows at a red light, and I silence them both with a glare. “Unless you want to join Milo at the bottom of the Hudson, I’d suggest shutting the fuck up. Let’s not forget who gives the orders here. I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in the brain of anyone who disrespects me.” I pull out my gun and cock it. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yeah, yeah, Brax,” Franco stammers. “We’re just fuckin’ with ya.”
But Augie, that cocky sonofabitch, has the nerve to smile. He’s new, probably trying to flex his muscles. While he’s not my main concern, I’ll bury his ass if he crosses me. I narrow my eyes at him and stick the gun back into my jeans. He’ll pay. I’ll make sure of that.
If this plan is going to work, I need my men behind me, not lined up to steamroll me because they smell a chance to rise up in the organization.
I catch Augie studying me out of the corner of my eye. He doesn’t trust me, that much is clear. And according to my list, he’s next in line for termination. After Gae. Bastard.
I grit my teeth, forcing my lungs to hold in the air instead of pushing it out like I’m in some kind of fucking panic. But Loren’s face flashes before my eyes, and I feel it in my gut. Something’s wrong. Our time, our opportunity, is limited. I need to get back to her.
Heavy metal music blares from the speakers, making my temples pound harder. By the time the SUV pulls up to the “office,” my ears are ringing like I’ve been sitting in the front row of a Metallica concert.
Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand. We’re off to never neverland.
How apropos for this particular venue.
I open the door and jump to the curb. Franco and Augie just watch. They make no move to join me. Red flag number two.
I don’t say a word. There really isn’t much to say, not to these jerkoffs, anyway. They think they know what’s waiting for me inside, but they have no clue. I glance at the dilapidated brick building. It never ceases to amaze me that such a rich and powerful organization was born from this shithole.
My fingers grip the tarnished door handle and I yank it open. The stale smell of beer assaults my nostrils as I step into the dank and musty expanse. Dark panels contribute to the rustic look, and the only light comes from the cracks between the window blinds.
He’s here. I can smell his cologne. He practically bathes in the shit; the same one he’s worn since the day we met. The flick of a Zippo reveals his smug, stubbled face. His bulging arms are folded across his chest, lips curled into a nasty smirk.
“Brax.”
“Gae.” I don’t move toward him. Nothing pisses him off more than people who don’t kiss his ass.
“Care to join?”
“I’m fine right here.”
He slams a beefy hand on the table. I swallow a snicker. He’s so goddamn predictable. “Do you know why I had those tools bring you here?”
“Not really. You don’t pay them for their conversational abilities. I couldn’t decipher between the grunts. Why don’t you tell me why you dragged my ass to Brooklyn when you know damned well I have work to do back in Manhattan?”
The chair scrapes against the sticky, rotting wood floor and he stands to his full height, which is still a good three inches shorter than me. Gaetano puffs out his chest and struts closer, the lit cigarette in his stubby fingers. The cloud of smoke follows, billowing around my head. I’ve seen this whole show before, and none of his bullshit intimidation tactics work on me. He’s all muscle, no brains. It’s a dangerous combination, so he thinks.
One of the many reasons why he hates me so goddamned much.
“Do you mind?”
He blows a series of smoke rings directly at me and my fist itches to pummel his ass to the ground. “The guys said your stomach was a little, shall we say, weak, this morning.”
“Must be a stomach virus.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Do you need a sick day? Maybe some chicken soup?”
I square my shoulders. “Fuck you, Gae.”
He thrusts a finger at my chest. “No, fuck you, Brax. Milo isn’t your biggest problem right now.”
“I wasn’t aware he still was a problem, at least as of an hour ago.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. The girls. You owe me pussy, Brax. And it’s time for me to collect. Your pal Milo tainted the pool, but I want the others.”
“Things kind of went sideways the other night.”
Gaetano leans closer. “I want my money, you fucking asshole. You had one job to do.”
“No, you were the one on the hook to collect, if memory serves. Sal ordered you to take care of this, not me.”
“And I delegated. That’s how this whole thing works. You’re the peon, the one who carries out the orders. I’m the one who runs the op.”
“Maybe we should ask Sal to clear things up.” I allow the corners of my lips to curl upward.
His face turns bright red. “I told you a long time ago how things work here—“
“Then maybe you need to clarify them with your uncle, since his are the only orders I care about following. You’re not my boss, brother.”
The eyes are bugging out. Nice. The fucker is on the edge now. Screw it. I’m on a roll.
“And for the record, your uncle brought me in because you were fucking everything up. Isn’t that right, Gae? You couldn’t handle the crew, the job, hell, you practically got your ass nipped by the feds. That’s why Sal came looking for me. He needed someone he could groom and trust because his own fucking blood was about to decimate the whole organization.”
He leans closer, his voice dripping with disdain. “I have buyers breathing down my neck. I promised—“
“That was your first mistake. Never promise what you can’t deliver.”
“I’ll send them after you if you don’t make good on this deal.”
“Threaten me again, and I’ll make sure they know who derailed the plans with an impromptu hit.”
“Milo had to go.”
“It was too soon. You could have let him finish the job and taken care of it afterward. This is so typical of you, Gae. Flexing your muscles to show everyone who’s boss, but you never think of the consequences. And now you’re trying to pin this shit on me?”
“You’re the one who couldn’t keep control of him. I should’ve had you skewered instead.”
“Try it and see what happens. You need me.”
“You’re my uncle’s pet project, not mine. I don’t need anyone!” The vein in Gaetano’s forehead is bulging, ready to explode out of the skin. If I push a little harder, it might actually happen. But I don’t want him dead. Yet. I need him, hotheaded asshole that he is, as much as he needs me. But luckily, I’m the only one who knows that.
“You’re gonna give yourself a stroke.” I massage the knot at the base of my neck, not that it helps even the slightest bit. “And don’t worry about the job. I won’t let Sal down.”
His eyes narrow to slits. “That’s good news. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it, although I think his bigger priority is finding out when you plan to deliver Loren Hayes. He’s been waiting for weeks. Pretty patiently, I should add.” His voice is laced with malice. “How much longer do you plan on fucking her before you put a bullet between her eyes?”