If I learned one thing from what happened to me two years ago it's to never trust a man in power. And Jace has power. Lots of power.
And it's all power over my body and emotions. Some of that is thrilling, and some is terrifying. And I'm not sticking around to let him see just how powerful he is.
11
JACE
Sabine's laptop sits open on her kitchen table while morning coffee brews in the background, and the list of remaining names stares back at me from the screen with an accusation. Six names off that list now and five left that I'm willing to eliminate, and that should be a little encouraging to me that I'm over halfway done, but it does nothing to quash the guilt I have to swallow every time I think of going back to Barone and telling him Sabine isn't dead.
Those who are left are guilty. They deserve what's coming to them, and I have to keep reminding myself that they deserve it. Because whether I want to admit it or not, I'm going soft. Barone warned me a few times early on that the first time I think of a target like a person and not a problem, I'd lose my ability to stay objective and do my job, and he was right.
But that little girl was not a target and I would never have been able to kill a child. I should’ve done my homework better to know when that girl would be home. I could've killed those people anywhere else, but I chose their home not knowing theyhad a kid in the house, and now I can't separate myself from my humanity and I'm paying for it.
The taste in my mouth is bitter, and the laptop screen blurs slightly while my mind works back to everything I've learned about the man who hired me through that broker. That broker and my boss hired me to do a job, no matter how ethically challenging it is, and I have to finish it. Which means I have to start seeing these fuckwits for the type of people they are. And the only way I can do that is to remember how they treated Sabine. Unfortunately, that only reminds me of the one name on that list I can't wrap my mind around killing.
I rub my hand down over my face and stare at my phone, situated beside the computer screen. My hand reaches without thinking. I need to check in with the family, and calling Barone directly just doesn't seem like a smart idea right now. I know how steamed he was about that kid and I know how he handles problems like the one I've created. I don't want to give him any other reason to be pissed at me.
And Lucas has been with the Barone organization since we were teenagers running drugs through the West Side, and if anyone knows what Don Vittorio is planning beyond the official contract details, it would be him. Enforcers hear things that don't filter down to hitters, and Lucas has always been better at reading the boss's intentions than I ever was.
The call connects after two rings, and Lucas's voice comes through sounding a little rough. "Morelli. Didn't expect to hear from you while you're working."
"Yeah, well I wanna meet." With Sabine off to work, I have some free time, and as long as I keep my phone on me, she can reachme. "One hour—that coffee shop on Cicero Avenue near the old factory."
There's a pause on the other end, long enough that I can hear him processing the request and deciding whether to ask why or just agree. "This about the contract?" Men like Lucas ask too many questions, but I'm not giving him free information to toss back up the food chain.
"Among other things." The vague answer will have to suffice until we're face to face. "Can you make it?"
"Yeah, one hour." The line goes dead, and I set the phone down while staring at the laptop screen and the face of Jason Bryan. That fucker's going down no matter what, because I don't need to think about whether he's human or not. He's a piece of shit who needs to be taken out. But the other names on that list still accuse my guilty conscience every waking second.
I finish brewing the coffee and then go for a shower and get dressed. The drive to the coffee shop takes thirty minutes through morning traffic, and I rock up to the neighborhood right on time. The coffee shop itself is a small independent place that caters to factory workers and truck drivers who pass through this rundown section of town on their way to and from their real jobs and homes. It's inconspicuous, though, and perfect for a little clandestine meeting.
Lucas is already there when I arrive, sitting at a corner booth with his back to the wall and a cup of black coffee in front of him. It appears he's been waiting a while too, which seems about right. Probably got here early to surveil the area the way I should have, but at this point, I have nothing to lose.
"Morelli." He gestures to the seat across from him, and I slide in with my injured leg protesting the movement. "You look terrible. The contract going sideways?"
"Contract's fine," I tell him. "Six down, six to go. Should be finished before Christmas."
"So why the meeting?" His eyes narrow slightly, and he takes a sip of coffee without looking away. "You don't call for updates when things are running smoothly."
The waitress appears before I can respond, and I order coffee. When she disappears back behind the counter, Lucas leans forward slightly and drops his tone to a lower register. His eyes are flighty, flicking around nervously like he's tweaking or something. He probably is.
"Word is the boss has plans for you once this job wraps up. Is that why you're here?" The way he leans forward even farther shows me he's not pulling shit. "Quietly told a few people in the family that you're to be ended as soon as the last name gets crossed off."
The confirmation of what I already suspected still feels like a gut punch, and my shoulders stiffen. I lean back as the waitress sets the mug of coffee in front of me and smiles.
"Anything else, honey?" she asks, and I scowl.
"Nah, that's it," I grunt and wait for her to leave before responding to him. "Because of the girl?"
"Yeah." Lucas nods slowly. "Boss thinks you're weak. Thinks you can't be trusted. You done fucked up bad, Jacey Boy."
"Are you going to act on it?" I came into this meeting feeling like I had the advantage—weeks to go still and half the job done. Now I'm not so sure.
"We've been friends since we were fifteen years old running product for corner dealers." Lucas scowls at me in contempt and disbelief. "You really think I'd take that contract?"
"No." Lucas has always been loyal in this business, but I can't ever turn my back on a Barone. "But I just needed to hear you say it."
"I'm not taking the contract and I'm not saying anything to anyone about this meeting." He settles back in the booth and his posture relaxes slightly. "But you need to know what's coming so you can plan. Once that last name drops, you've got maybe forty-eight hours before someone else gets the order to clean up the loose end."
