“So, because I’m not being a pain in the ass, you think something’s wrong?”
“Exactly.”
I shake my head. “Get the fuck back to work.”
He cuffs me on the shoulder. “Ahhh, that’s more like it.”
Fuckin’ Ace could always read me better than anybody else, or he was the only one who had the balls to confront me. Back in the day, he’d call me out on my bullshit and even questioned me about the DEA bitch. Of course, at the time, the rest of us just thought she was a hot piece of ass, but Ace saw something I obviously missed.
Either way, from now on, it’s business as usual, and I would stay far the fuck away from Miss Cinzia Marino. A woman I have no business thinking about. A woman who could send my life straight to hell.
SAMMIE
My hands shake as I reread the text.
Viper: You better find that flash drive and hand it over, or your father suffers big-time.
I ignored Viper’s messages yesterday and hoped he got the hint, but of course he didn’t. I’m still staring at the message when suddenly more little bubbles appear.
Viper: If you don’t give me that flash drive, I’ll burn that whole fuckin’ bar to the ground.
Sammie: Then neither one of us will get it.
Viper: Don’t be a wiseass, ‘cause I got contacts up at Rikers who would think nothing of shoving a rusty shiv in your old man’s gut until he’s begging for mercy.
My stomach heaves, and for a second, I think I’m going to be sick. Viper’s vicious reach extends throughout the Tri-State area and beyond. Him carrying out his threat would be as easy as making a phone call.
Sammie: What makes you think there even is a flash drive?
Viper: ‘Cause your old man threatened me with it before he went in.
Probably thinking , like I did that I could use it as leverage against Viper. Unfortunately, we both underestimated Viper’s wrath.
Sammie: I told you I haven’t found it.
Viper: Then I suggest you start looking harder. Or maybe you don’t care what happens to your deadbeat old man.
As much as I hate to admit it, Viper’s words hit me hard. Would my father win “Father of the Year”? Absolutely not, but he was never mean or violent. He was almost Peter Pan-like in his outlook on life and people.
He was the worst businessman on earth, leaving all the responsibilities to my mother. He wasn’t home much, but when he was . . . he gave the best hugs, the best presents at Christmas even if it put him in debt, and he always said I was his greatestaccomplishment. So even though I shouldn’t, I do care about what happens to my father.
Sammie: No, please. I’ll find it.
Viper: I’m not fuckin’ around. You got 24 hrs. or your old man is dead.
I startle at the knock on the door, and for a split second, I fear it might be Viper. I lay the phone on the sink, grab my robe off the hook on the back of the door, and shrug it on, tying the sash tightly.
“Who is it?” I grip the doorknob way tighter than necessary.
“Me.” Deuce’s one word fills me with relief, then amps me up in another way. I unlock the door, then yank it open since it’s still not on its hinges correctly. I gaze up at him because, just like last night in my bare feet, I realize how tall he is as he towers over me.
“I was just taking a shower.” Unnecessary information since I’m sure my dripping wet hair and robe give it away.
He takes in my fuzzy robe, then focuses back on my eyes. “They delivered the garbage disposal, but Fist wants you to take a look. He’s having trouble getting it under the sink.”
“Tell him I’ll be right down.” I push the door, and he slams his palm against the wood.
“This door ain’t closing right.”
