Page 47

So, yeah, I owed her an apology.
I considered sending it via text, but I thought that bringing it up that way might only make things worse at this point. I was just going to have to wait to say it when I caught her in person again.
I was just about to head out for the day to do yet another seemingly useless stakeout when my phone started to ring.
Rico’s name was on the screen.
“What’s up?”
“Come over to the meat shop,” he said, then ended the call before I could ask for any further details.
I’ll admit that I was much more excited to see what Rico had going on than I was about more endless hours spent alone in my car, following Bratva members as they went out to lunch or got their dry cleaning.
Rico’s shop opened later in the day since there weren’t exactly a ton of people looking to buy steak at six in the morning, so I went around the back, finding Renzo’s kid Coal standing by the back door, keeping guard.
He looked rough. But, then again, I didn’t remember the last time I saw him without cuts and bruises. The kid was earning his keep, that was for sure.
“Everything alright in there?” I asked as he reached to open the door for me.
“Always something going on,” he said with a casual shrug. That was Coal. Calm. Unflappable. He was going to be a good capo some day.
I made my way in the door, expecting to turn and move into the office, when I found myself faced with a man in the middle of the floor, strung up by the chain around his wrists, the tips of his shoes just barely touching the ground to give his shoulders a break from the strain of hanging.
He was breathing heavily, sweat cascading down his face, mingling with the cuts on his cheek and lip, turning it all a light pink color as it dropped off his chin and onto his white shirt.
“What’s this?” I asked, gaze moving around to Rico, Renzo, and Saff.
Of the three, it was the small, blue-haired Saff who was out of breath with roughed-up knuckles.
“The leader of the 34th Street crew,” Saff said, gesturing toward him before turning to grab a bottle of water, and taking a long sip.
“We have another crew working with the Russians,” Renzo explained, his dark gaze landing on the guy who, despite the way he was trying to snarl at us, looked close to pissing himself.
“Just so happened to be helping my bagman around that area today, and I saw him get out of the car with one of those fucks,” Saff said. “So I had one of my guys bring a car, threw his ass in it, and brought him here for some questioning.”
I was honestly surprised he was still breathing. Saff had a raging temper when she was riled. And it was often explosive and violent. The guy was lucky a few bruises and cuts were all he had to show for his betrayal. So far. Lord knew we weren’t done with him.
I nodded at Renzo, then moved toward the office. “Did we do the hit between the other crews yet?” I asked.
“It’s supposed to go down tomorrow night. The leader of one of the crews was out of town, but we hear he should be back sometime tonight. So by tomorrow, he should be back on the street again. Then we’ll strike.”
“What are our plans with this one?” I asked, jerking my head over toward him as Saff and Rico joined us.
“Taking out another crew cuts off another stream of income,” Rico said, exhaling hard.
We all got his frustration. Back in the day, we wouldn’t have hesitated. You fucked us over, you went down for it. The thing with growing an organization, though, was that there were men, women, and children who relied on the stability we provided.
We were already taking out two whole crews.
And, sure, others would come up and take their place, but it would require time.
So losing a third revenue stream was really pushing it.
“So what are the options?”
“One, we finish him, then put one of our men in charge of that crew. Move an associate over to that instead,” Rico said. “Sure plenty of ‘em would welcome the opportunity.”
“And two?” I asked, getting a grumble out of Saff.