“You don’t trust Ghost?”
“I don’t know yet.” I run my fingers through my hair, showing my agitation. “I don’t know who I can trust.”
He levels me with a look. “You can trust us.”
I wave my hand.“I don’t mean you guys. A lot of people think I can’t do this and that dad made a mistake putting me in this position.” I sigh. “Maybe they’re right.”
Ryder’s feet drop to the floor with a thud when he sits up. “They aren’t fucking right,” he says vehemently.
“Viktor never would have taken a stand against Dad,” I point out.
“No. Probably not,” he agrees. “But now you have to show Viktor he fucked with the wrong one. You were made for this,Il mio sole, never doubt that.”
The problem is, I did doubt that, and I’ve never voiced it out loud except to Dex. I feel like I’m making all the wrong decisions and moves, and people think I’m weak. Since my grandfather, we don’t run the Italians like his family before him. They hid behind their fancy gates and sent other people to do their dirty work. When my grandfather took the mantle, he didn’t want to hide; he wantedpeople to see his face and fear that face. So, the tradition continued with dad and now with me. People like Viktor still live by the old ways that leaders lead from afar; they don’t do it themselves. Since I took over, I’ve been on almost every assignment we’ve had, and it isn’t because I don’t trust my guys to get the job done; I want to be there.
My phone rings, interrupting me from my thoughts. The display reads Dex, and I slide to answer and flip it to the speakerphone.
“We have a problem,” Dex rumbles as soon as the call connects.
“What kind of problem?” I ask, looking at Ryder.
“We have a tail. Been following us for the ten minutes Gage has spent trying to lose it.”
“You’re sure?” I need to ask because everyone is on high alert right now. The last thing we need to do is freak out Leo’s mom because of it.
“One hundred percent,” Dex replies.
“Where are you?” Ryder asks, already standing.
“Two twenty-two.” Two twenty-two is one of the more rural back roads.
“Go to Dad’s,” Ryder says. “We’re on our way.”
Dex grunts in agreement, and the call disconnects.
Ryder already has his phone to his ear. “Dad. Special cargo is coming your way. We’re on our way.” Special cargo is our way of telling the other person we have an innocent with us. Ryder listens to whatever his dad says. “Yes, sir.” He hangs up and looks at me. “Viktor?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, standing up and shooting off a text to Evander, Mateo, and Micah to meet us out front. We need all the manpower we can get if it’s him. Dex and Gage were discreetly armed when they left, but there were just two of them. I saw the hell Viktor rained down on our limo, and I can almost bet that if there’s one tail, there are more somewhere waiting. I shoot off another message to Holden to let him know we are leaving.
Ryder and I head out to the garage where some of our weapons are stored, so they’re easy to grab in a hurry. We both slide ourholsters on, loading each side with our favorite Glocks. I slide my leather jacket over it, and Ryder pulls on a button-up to cover his.
Evander, Mateo, and Micah stride into the garage dressed similarly, and I can see the flash of their weapons.
“They have a tail,” I tell them. “They’re going to Rocco’s.”
Ryder grabs the keys to the Chevrolet Yukon Denali we have for when we need more room. I pull open the passenger side door, and that’s when I catch a glimpse of curly hair.
“Can I go?” Holden asks quietly, and the shock must register on my face. He holds up his laptop bag. “I have this in case we need it.”
Ryder and I exchange a look over the hood before Ryder looks back at Holden. “Are you sure?” Holden nods, and my heart sinks. If we tell him no, he’ll think we don’t want him to go, but if we tell him yes, it’s hard to tell what we’re getting him into. Ryder and I exchange another look before Ryder jerks a nod. “Get in the back and keep your head down.”
We all climb in with Ryder and me up front, Evander and Micah in the middle, and Mateo sliding in beside Holden.
Holden doesn’t even have a fucking gun because he won’t touch one. We’ve all tried several times to explain that he at least needs to know how to use one. He’s adamant he was taught growing up, so if he ever needed to, as a last resort, he can shoot.
Ryder pulls the back way off the property, and it’s about a fifteen-minute drive to his dad's. Five minutes in, my phone rings again.
I connect the call through Bluetooth in the SUV, and gunshots fill the car through the speakers.
