Page 35 of For Life
“Tell us when the food needs to come out.”
“I set a timer on the oven. But if it’s good, will you believe me and let me go?”
He only grunted and walked away. An hour later I was serving them at the kitchen counter, since there was no table or chairs. They made me eat a bite of everything first, as if they read my mind about the poisoning I wanted to do, but then they dug in like ravenous pigs. There were groans of appreciation, and I couldn’t help being proud of that.
“Damn, boy, this shit is good.”
Resisting the urge to saynot a boyand stay in their good graces, I ate with them. It was good. The lasagna wasn’t up to par with my grandma’s or even what I made in bulk at Shepherd’s kitchen, but it was better than microwaved. And the bread was aromatic, if dense, with the herbs I’d used. They all came back for seconds but then locked me away again when the sound of a car door slamming echoed up to us. My chance to ask again if they would let me go was gone.
Loud footsteps mixed with the clicking of heels clued me in to at least two people approaching. I wasn’t surprised when Officer Matlock and Ivanna Kiselov came around the corner. I could see her a lot more clearly than during the shooting, and I wondered if the pinched expression of smelling something foul was always on her face. Matlock was out of uniform and went straight to the almost empty tray of lasagna on the stovetop.
“What is this?” Matlock bellowed and tugged at his overgrown mustache. He looked tired and stressed, which made me happy.
Goon one pointed at me, a red stain on his face and fingers belying how eagerly he’d eaten my food. “We made him cook for us to earn a bathroom visit.”
Ivanna’s face turned from sour to enraged. Her heels and tight dress didn’t match the dingy space as she started yelling in Russian at the goons. I assumed it was about being allowed out of the cage. Or possibly why I wasn’t lying on the floor in pain from their interrogation. But she was also confirming the Russian offshoot theory.
“But he’s clearly a chef,” goon two answered her in English, “I don’t think he’s really with the Italians.”
Ivanna back-handed him across the face with a resounding crack. Damn, and she had big, gaudy rings on too. Didn’t look like I was getting released.
“You think he isn’t mafia?” Ivanna asked in a too sweet, accented voice.
“Yeah, I mean no,” goon three nodded and then shook his head, seeming unsure of which answer she wanted. His bravado was gone, and I started to worry about where she was going with this. “We couldn’t get anything out of him except that he’s a baker and doesn’t like being called a guy.”
“This one’s an it,” Matlock laughed at that and turned to sneer at me through the bars. “Maybe we should just put it down.”
Fuck, that was hard to hear on so many levels.
Ivanna narrowed her eyes at me and tilted her head like I was prey, and not in the hot primal way I liked. The three goons had cowered further back, but Ivanna and Matlock were both at the bars, inspecting me like a bug. The kind they wanted to squash under their heels.
“I’m really not in any mafia,” I swallowed hard, remembering the real reason they had wanted me dead, “and I didn’t see who shot that guy, I swear!”
“Bullshit,” Matlock roared, his spittle hitting me from three feet away, “We can’t keep it around.”
“Yes, it has seen too much,” Ivanna tapped her long nails on the metal bars and I noticed a finger or two was missing. I was not a part of her world of crime and disfigurement, but someone she wanted me dead. “Get the plastic out.”
“The plastic?” Goon one asked as he stepped forward, confused.
Before he could see it coming, goon one got smacked, a red mark blooming on his cheek to match the goon I thought to be his brother. Goon three didn’t ask questions.
“Yes, boss, I’ll go get it now.”
Chapter twenty-three
MAXX
WEALMOSTMISSEDTHEsmall rainbow waving out of the window on the third floor of the building. Right when we’d been about to leave, Jefferson caught it in his binoculars. The others had gotten back to us that the other locations were a bust. Roman apparently brought listening devices to see if anyone was there, and Maksim put on a drunk ruse to get in the spot they checked out. Jefferson and I couldn’t get that close, with an empty parking lot all the way around leaving us too exposed.
With the sighting of the rainbow flagging our attention, we called the others up and they said they would be there in about an hour. I had to hope that if Ant was up there, and able to signal their presence, then they couldn’t be hurt too bad. It was the only thought that kept me from rushing the building. I changed into my uniform but didn’t turn my camera on. Technically, I had no authority to be in Oakland in uniform with my gun, but I was beyond caring.
When Maksim messaged that they were five minutes away, we snuck out from our hiding place to move to the street side of the old warehouse. A shiny black luxury car pulled up to the building and I almost stepped out, thinking it was Felix. Jefferson put a hand on my arm to stop me. When first Ivanna got out, the Matlock from the driver’s seat, I saw red and Jefferson had to hold me back.
“Wait for backup, they’re almost here. And we know it’s the right place now.”
We had found Ant, I was certain of it. Waiting was torture, but we filled it by calling Felix to tell him Ivanna was spotted. They agreed to park down the road and meet us there. Shit was about to hit the fan.
When Jefferson and I were joined by Felix, Maksim and a handful of Felix’s men to storm the location, I gave out orders. “I’m in a bullet proof vest and I’m turning my camera on. You should all stay behind me.”