He looks at me and then at the house. “No. Should be just family.”
I don’t think I can feel worse until I hear those words. I think about the night before, when he said I was his family. Obviously the C Crue has been his family longer and he’s choosing them over me. Why wouldn’t he? They’ve protected and supported him for years. All I’ve done is abandon him or threaten to, even while he was reaching out to take care of my little sister.
“About what I said to Zoe, it was only—”
Shaking his head, Trick holds out a hand to ward off the conversation. “I don’t need to know what was said. It’s okay. You’ll go back to Boston.”
“Alone?”
“No, there will be a bodyguard. He’s on his way. He’ll drive you back. In my world, there’s a code. Innocent women and children are off limits. The Palermos aren’t likely to break it, but the security detail will be there in case.”
The sky’s strewn with gray clouds, which suits the mood. Looking up, tears burn my eyes. “Will I see you?”
“Yeah.”
That he doesn’t look at me or say when that will be tells me all I need to know.
My voice struggles. “Okay.”
“They’re waiting. You’d better go.”
When I look at the house, I find the storm door’s open and my dad’s standing in profile. They have Monet home, and there’s a plan for her. What if I didn’t go in? What if I got in Trick’s truck and told him I wanted to be with him—anywhere? Even Connor McCann’s house? What if…?
But when I turn, he’s in the C Crue Range Rover again, the tinted windows hiding him from me. And just like that, I’ve lost Scott Patrick for the second time in my life.
Chapter 11
Trick
Two weeks later, I’m up top in a VIP room at one of our raves. The slamming beats in the packed warehouse shake the walls. Tronex onstage is lit. He’s the third act C Crue’s backed, and he’s gone profitable even faster than the others.
The girls swarm around me, even trying to follow me when I step into the hall.
“Mill,” I say, inclining my head so he intercepts the girls.
Derrick Miller moves into their path and turns them back to the VIP room. I let myself into the small makeshift office.
A tap on the door, and Miller leans in. “Boss, there’s a guy and a couple girls who want to come up. Says he knows you. Name’s Jack Murphy.”
“Pushy motherfucker,” I murmur. “Prop the door to the VIP room open, so you can have eyes on everything. Then let them up.” I look at my watch. My night’s full, and it wasn’t supposed to involve another impromptu visit from Murphy. “Mill?”
“Yeah, Trick?”
“Send the girl in the purple skirt and her friends downstairs. Horn can’t keep his eyes off her. Remind him he’s working. While you’re watching the VIP room, Hornsby is watching the floor.”
“Five by five.” After a beat he walks away to follow orders.
At a distance, Miller could pass for me, and I’m going to use that tonight. C and Anvil haven’t mentioned that tonight there’s a meeting with Enzo because they know me and that I will want to at least be there in case something goes sideways and they need the best gun we have. Mine.
I shut the office door and look down on the floor where a couple hundred kids are dancing. Sipping Coke from a red Solo cup, I watch Tronex hop up and down in his aqua track suit, yelling into the microphone. I mouth the words to my favorite of his tracks. When it’s over, I look at my watch. In thirty minutes we’ll clear the VIP room, and I’ll swap clothes with Miller.
If Enzo Palermo takes the bait, he’ll come to meet Rachel in a field outside town. He wants her to return a missing flash drive and to sign away her assets. She wants her music journals back from the Palermo mansion where she used to live.
He can’t be seen giving her anything or his bitter family will lose their minds, so the meet is supposed to be private. Plan is supposed to be that they’ll broker a peace that will allow everyone to co-exist. But in private, our mole inside the Palermo house says Enzo holds Rachel and me responsible for Frank’s death and for the organization’s crashing fortunes. The asshole calls Rachel a whore and a traitorous bastard bitch. His real and unoriginal plan to keep her from claiming any assets is to kill her.
Normally killing’s a last resort, not something I look forward to, but I’ve been looking forward to tonight like it’s Taco Tuesday even though I’m not going to be the one dealing with him directly. Meanwhile, I’ve just put a digital nail in his coffin. In a four-move final play, I’ve taken over or destroyed the last of the Palermo operations in a forty-mile radius of Coynston. They’ve had to pull money from some New York partnerships to cover the payroll for their muscle in Coynston. I’ve heard they even let a couple of the old guys go, including Pauly Mangia. Enzo knows it was Mangia who flicked the first domino on my departure from the Palermo organization. I wonder how old Pauly’s feeling tonight.
I write him an email with a link to a site on how to prepare a resume and hit send. Mangia’s an evil bastard, just like Frank was. Before C moved up in the Palermo organization to become Frank’s right hand, that was Mangia’s post. And when C said no more recruiting or beating on young kids who screwed up, Mangia went behind our backs and beat the hell out of a kid whose losses I covered. Mangia broke that kid’s bones out of spite. Frank was going to let it go. Mangia thought I’d have to swallow that and choke on it. Instead, I left, taking money from Frank for the kid’s family. C and Anvil were supposed to hunt me down and kill me. Frank was right to think they were the only ones who could’ve found me or gotten close enough to do me in the first few days after I left. But he didn’t count on C deciding to go his own way.
