“Phil will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. He almost killed this woman to find this piece of paper that he dropped in her house,” I grit through my teeth. I would never show him pictures of Hazel, but he needs to know what Phil is capable of. Although Hazel’s beating was much more severe than this woman’s, this picture is all that’s needed to put the fear of God in him. “She had nothing to do with Snap. Doesn’t even do drugs. What do you think he would do to you, or your wife and kids, if you didn’t delivery what he wanted?”
His hands shake as he turns to me. “What are you going to do to me?”
“What do you think we should do to you?”
Samuel notices Dale’s menacing grimace and Joseph’s tight-lipped sorrow. Joseph despises hurting people. He’s a make-love-not-war kind of guy. Having this discussion, and not knowing where I’m going with it, is probably eating away at him. I hate doing this to him, but if I told Dale what I planned on doing he would scream at me that it’s not enough. I would agree with him, too. What I want to do is bash his fucking face in and send him home to his family, mangled and bloody, so they know to keep their mouths shut. But I will not risk anything coming back on me now that I have Hazel.
“Whatever you do, please don’t hurt my family,” hecroaks, fighting back tears.
I grab the back of his neck and get in his face. “I don’t hurt innocents. You have until sunrise to pack your shit and get the fuck out of this town where no one can find you.” The man appears to be in shock before turning to the outraged expressions on Dale and Joseph’s faces. “You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you don’t. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” he stutters. I release him, and he pushes the chair back and stands. He walks hesitantly toward the door, peeking over his shoulder in fear.
“Samuel,” I call out.
“Yes?” He grips the door frame straddling the threshold.
“Don’t fuck around with Snap anymore. We are selling it to the highest bidder. I don’t think they will be askindif they catch you messing in their business.”
CHAPTER 9
PHIL
Istare out the windshield at the lights shinning in the RCC parking lot off in the distance. My heart pounds with the thought of soon having the one thing that is going to save my ass. I try to keep my focus, but the excitement of everything has my anxiety soaring. It keeps my thoughts scattered, instead of coming up with alternate plans if I get caught. Like taking Hazel out when I get a stronghold built. If the cops were to find me, and she’s not around to testify, they can’t hold me. Well, not for long anyway.
“I thought he said there was a meeting?” Dustin says, breaking me from my thoughts.
“He did,” I respond, looking back at the building.
“Why isn’t there anyone else there?”
I notice what he’s talking about now. There are only a few cars in the parking lot. Not the usual amount I’ve seen before. Samuel’s car is one of them,though.
“Maybe he had things to do before the meeting. He does make deliveries for them, so maybe he had to be there sooner than everyone else.”
“Yeah, okay,” he says, not taking his eyes from the parking lot.
Dustin’s comment causes doubt to tighten my gut. He could be setting me up to take me down, but I doubt it. His bosses don’t know what I’m up to. If they even had an inkling of the things I’ve been doing lately, they would’ve already stopped me. They would’ve never waited this long.
We sit there a little longer when headlights come down the road and turn into the parking lot. Not long after, a few more cars pull in. My concern eases back into nervous excitement. If they were expecting me to make a move, they wouldn’t put their workers at risk, not in such a prominent business. They would do it while no one else is there. No, they don’t know anything.
The burner phone starts ringing, and I quickly answer it.
“Where are you?” Samuel asks.
“Down the road watching the building.” A car turns around in the parking lot and makes its way toward the road. “Is that you leaving?”
“Yeah,” he responds. “Boss has things for me to do.”
“Take a right. You’ll see us.”
I hang up the phone as he turns our way, his headlights brightening the road. Once he gets to us, he pulls up beside our car and rolls down his window.
“The meeting starts in ten minutes. Stay back here and wait until then, that way they are all in the room and not paying attention. I can’t tell you how much time you’ll have, but I’d say twenty to thirty minutes. You remember the layout?”
“Yeah, I memorized it.”
“Good.” He passes me a key card. “This will get you in.”
