The Russian mob boss, who hardly showed any sign of emotions, was intelligent, well respected in Boston, and a wealthy individual, running a multitude of illegal and legal enterprises. Yet through it all, he seemed invincible, as if the law couldn’t touch him.
What are you complaining about? You haven’t been arrested or spent any time in jail.
“How’s my brother Denim doing for you at the Guardian?”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I won’t bring him into illegal shit. He’s happy with his role as a bodyguard. Now, I know you didn’t call me to talk about Denim. I heard the news about the dead cartel members outside my container yard. Cops are roaming the place, asking questions.”
“I’m not sure what’s going on, but I wanted to check with you on your cameras around the property. Did you turn them off for me?” He normally did if I was brokering deals there.
“Always,” he said.
Thank fuck. “I owe you.” I relaxed my muscles, silently thanking my lucky stars I had Jeremy Pitt in my court.
A hard wind whipped up, carrying the scent of flowers that served to ease my panic even more.
“I’ll check with my contacts at Boston PD and take the temperature of the water. If you need my help, I have an army.”
He came from several generations of mafia families and knew the pitfalls, ways to stay below the law’s radar, and how to build relationships with key city officials to ensure he kept his freedom. That army he had included a few men in blue.
“I appreciate that, man. I hope I don’t need you.”
“We need to stick together,” he said. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”
After we ended the call, I scanned the property for nothing more than to clear my head. The man I’d seen early was gone, and there wasn’t anyone around as far as I could see.
For just a moment, I reveled in the quietness and emptiness of the area, listening to the tree branches rustle, leaves blowing on the ground, and my pulse beating in my ears. I stared at Savannah’s headstone, my brain a whirlwind of thoughts—past, present, and future.
I couldn’t keep going at a thousand miles an hour, looking over my shoulder, worrying about my siblings, wondering if or when I would finally end up in prison or a body bag. Denim, Dillon, and Grace had been pleading with me to find an out, to leave everything behind. Maybe even leave the country.
But that wasn’t me. I didn’t run. I attacked my shit head-on, and I needed to clean up the mess from last night. If I left Rosario hanging, she would cut off my limbs but not before she did the same to Grace and my brothers. Besides, I owed Rosario. She’d gotten me out of a tough situation with Arturo Rodriguez a few years back. If she hadn’t, I would be six feet under alongside Savannah.
After a few deep breaths, I touched Savannah’s headstone. “I need to go, babe.” I picked up the lily that had fallen off the ledge of her headstone. “I hope wherever you are, Savannah, that you’re having the time of your life. That you’re walking in the sunshine, laughing in the rain, and free from the darkness. You will always have a place in my heart.”
I buttoned my jacket, took one last long look at her headstone, and walked away, releasing my emotions, wiping them away, because feelings would only make me weak, and weakness was a flashing neon sign for a death warrant.
I slid into the driver’s seat when my phone vibrated in my hand, with Vince’s name on the screen. And just like that, my scowl was in place, the door to my heart locked tight. My ulcer pricked my stomach.
Answering, I started the engine. “What?”
Vince didn’t reply. I looked at the phone, and the call had disconnected.
“Call Vince,” I said into my SUV speaker.
Nothing. My cell should’ve automatically connected to the SUV. The damn system had been giving me problems as of late.
I fiddled with the SUV’s screen as I slowly navigated the winding road in the cemetery, every now and then checking the road. I tapped on the Bluetooth option, glanced up, and found myself slamming on the brakes.
But it was too late.
I clipped the back of a beat-up Ford truck that probably belonged to the groundskeeper. Or rather, tapped the bumper of the vehicle, although I heard glass break. My right headlight was probably busted.
My damn cell rang again.
“Vince, I have to call you back,” I barked after tapping the accept button.
“Duke.” Vince had that edge to his voice that told me something was wrong, so I stayed on the line.
I couldn’t even begin to speculate what had him rattled, unless he’d found a narc among our ranks.
