The Sicilian tipped his head toward the side of the building. “This way.”
“Lead the way.”
With a shake of his head, the man pointed and said, “Go.”
Arguing with him would just waste more time, so Zeke went. “My kid better be in one piece and not have a fuckin’ scratch.”
“He’s alive and well, as you’ll see for yourself in a minute.”
Once Zeke entered through a steel fire door at the back corner of the warehouse, it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darker, windowless interior. After they did, he saw the man wasn’t lying.
One corner of the warehouse was set up like a makeshift sitting area. And in that area was a couch. Sitting on that couch was his fucking kid with a bag of candy on his lap and, from what it sounded like, he was watching some kind of cartoon on a tablet.
What the actual fuck?
Either his kid was a mini badass or completely clueless. He hoped it was the first. “You good, lil dude?”
Ledger glanced over, shot him a smile and a nod, then turned his eyes back to whatever he was watching and shoved another handful of colorful jelly beans into his trap.
For fuck’s sake.He acted like he didn’t have a fucking care in the world. He took that to mean his son was unharmed.
And definitely not traumatized.Thank fuck.
However, his mother was going to be fucking pissed. Not only because Ledger got snagged, but from the resulting sugar high.
Zeke turned his attention to another suit-wearing, olive-skinned man sitting in a chair behind a metal desk with his fingers steepled in front of his face.
What kind of place was this?
While this whole set-up was in one corner of the huge warehouse, the rest of it was blocked by blue plastic curtains hanging from tracks attached to the ceiling, so he had no idea what took up the rest of the hidden space.
Zeke could guess it wasn’t anything legal.
When the man’s hands dropped, he said, “As you see, Ledger is fine. We aren’t in the business of hurting children. We only wanted a sit-down.”
“That’s a fucked up way of askin’ for a meet. Coulda simply fuckin’ asked for a sit-down. No reason to put your fuckin’ hands on my boy for that.”
Zeke kept his fists pinned to his thighs so he wouldn’t launch himself at that cocky motherfucker and get shot dead in front of his son by the six goons circling them.
“We wanted to make sure you took this seriously.”
“Again, no reason to take my fuckin’ boy.”
“Got your attention, didn’t it?”
It also got them a lifetime of hatred and revenge.
“Take a seat.” The man in charge tipped his head toward one of the matching chairs in front of the desk.
“Don’t plan on bein’ here that fuckin’ long. Just here to collect my son.”
“Take a seat.” It was an order, not a strongly-worded suggestion.
At least sitting would make reaching for the knife in his boot easier. He sat, doing the biggest man-spread he could manage.
He wanted to show this asshole who had bigger balls.
The fuck if it wasLa Cosa Nostra. Hell no.
