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I hear his protest through his heavy exhale. I take a seat as Trig and Sweep sit behind me. I’m wired, and I slept like shit last night. Guilt swims in my bloodstream like a heavy dose of cocaine, and it’s messing with me.

“You doing okay?” Moretti asks as Nugget tosses me the towel, nearly hitting me in the face.

“You motherfucker.” I stand up, walking over to him, when Sweep grabs my arm.

“Stop, it,” Moretti says. “Nugget, get out. Jesus Christ, you two.”

I wrap the towel around my battered-up fist. pointing to Nugget’s back as I look at Moretti.

“Why do you still let that piece of shit come around?”

“Shut up. Sit down,” he says to me.

I feel my jaw tighten, but I take my seat.

“What do we know?” he asks me.

“Whoever killed Samuel left me a note.”

“A note?” he questions.

“Yeah. An eye for an eye. Says they’ll take everything from me, just like I did them.”

Moretti narrows his eyes. “So, this is retaliation.”

“Apparently.”

He nods, sitting back in his chair. “Whoever this was, was after the girl, though, right?”

“They shot up her work. I’m guessing Samuel wasn’t the main target. At least not right then.” I don’t bring up the fact I think he might have something to do with it. That wouldn’t be smart.

“Why don’t you lay low for a while. Let me do some talking. Figure some stuff out. Atlanta needs checking up on anyway. Take the girl, and those two. Get out of town for a bit.”

“What about my family?” Why does he want me out of town? Is it because of him and Nugget’s new partnership? They want me out of the way?

I’m fishing, but I can’t help it. I’m just trying to grab onto some reasonable idea of why someone would want her dead. He’s probably just thinking I need to get away so I don’t get shot while riding down the street. Fuck, I don’t know. I shouldn’t doubt the man. He’s been there for me since I was a kid. He’s given me no reason to think he would have done this.

“Your brother’s the mayor. He’ll be fine and I’ll have men watching Ma for you.”

“All right,” I reply. But I’ll feel better once I talk to Paul. “We gotta bury Samuel and then we’ll be on our way.”

“Take the private jet,” Moretti says.

“’Preciate it,” I reply.

_______________

Sweep grabs his smokes and flips his Zippo open as we three pull up to my bar.

“We’ll organize Samuel’s funeral. Have it tomorrow,” I tell him and Trig. “Whoever is after me won’t know about Atlanta. I don’t know what I did to this motherfucker, but they’re going to be sorry. Right now, I need to make sure Bexley is safe, so we need distance from Postings.”

“Yeah,” Sweep agrees. “It’s obvious she was the target.”

“There’s just not too many people who know about our history. I’m drawing a blank at who could have done this.”

“Me too,” he says.

“I need to go speak with Paul. I’ll be back in a little while.”