Stomach churning, he almost vomited. He didn’t like where this was going. Not one bit.
Diego continued, unfazed by the panic crawling up Andy’s spine. “We just want you to get in, change where the funds go, and push a withdrawal. Simple.”
His mouth went dry, and his chest tightened. “That’s... that’s stealing!” he spat out as if the three dirtbags were clueless. Then again, maybe he was the clueless one, pointing out the obvious crime to a bunch of drug dealers.
“Relax,” Diego said, chuckling. “Crypto moves all the time. Nobody’s gonna notice right away. By the time they do, it’s already gone. Besides, you already proved you can get in and out without leaving fingerprints. Who’s gonna know?”
“No.” Andy shook his head so hard, it was a surprise it didn’t fly off his neck. “No way. That’s—that’s illegal.Reallyillegal.”
Diego’s smile faded a fraction. “So? You worried about getting caught?”
“Yes! Obviously!”
“Then don’t get caught.”
Andy just stared at him, stunned—because of course that’s what Diego would say, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“I’m not doing it,” he repeated.
Silence stretched, sharp enough to cut.
Then Diego stepped even closer, so close that the stench of cigarettes couldn’t cover his foul breath. Dark coarse whiskers peeked out of the pores along his jawline and upper lip. He didn’t lift a hand, didn’t raise his voice, but the threat settled between them like a dropped blade.
“Listen.” The word was said softly. Too softly. “You’re smart. Really smart. You made the other day look easy, which is why I picked you for this. Not one of my guys. You.”
“That’s not a compliment,” Andy muttered, but it came out thin and weak.
Diego tipped his head, studying him with the patience of a predator. “Come on, man. Don’t make me look for someone else.”
The urge to vomit was back. “What does that mean?”
“It means...” the bastard said in a calm tone—calmer than it should’ve been, “…everybody’s got a price. Or a weak spot.”
Weak spot.
The words struck like a slap. Andy tried to keep hisexpression blank, but panic clawed at his insides, jagged and fast. He didn’t miss the way Diego’s grin widened, like he’d seen it—the flinch Andy didn’t mean to give away.
“Relax,” Diego said, stepping back with a smirk. “Think on it.”
“I don’t need to think,” he said louder. “I said no.”
Courage wasn’t the right word for what shot through him—it felt more like panic wearing a brave face.
Diego shrugged like it didn’t matter. Likenoneof it mattered. “Suit yourself.”
When Diego strode toward the driver’s door, Andy thought the nightmare was over. But Toad and Jax didn’t move. And instead of getting in, Diego reached through the open window, grabbed a bottle of cola, and twisted it open like they were just hanging out after school—not talking about federal crimes.
He guzzled half of the soda as he slowly returned and got in Andy’s face again.
“You know,” Diego said conversationally, “I always respect someone who tries to do the right thing. I do. Really. But man...” He blew out a breath, shaking his head. “Life gets messy.”
Andy couldn’t even find words.
Diego watched him a second longer, then grinned. “Anyway. I’ll let you think about it a little longer, and then I’ll text you.” He paused. “Try not to disappoint me.”
The trio sneered at Andy as they climbed into the Charger, revved the engine once—loud, deliberate—then peeled out, gravel exploding under the tires.
He stood frozen in the dust and exhaust, his heart pounding so hard it made his ribs ache.
