He stared Dan and Carlos down, like he was expecting that at any second Adam would jump to his defense. When he got no response, he turned back to Adam, still sitting silently at the edge of the bed. “Adam?”
Adam stared at his four friends standing in a circle, looking to him for guidance. But how could he possible assure them when he couldn’t push away his own fears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
He’d made a colossal mistake five years ago, letting the setbacks make him think he should give up. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He was never giving up. So he couldn’t afford to be afraid. His friends needed him.
Slowly, he stood, folding his arms and rising. “We’re not leaving the city. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Then what’re we gonna do?” Dan asked.
“We knew this was gonna be hard. We’re not gonna quit now,” Adam said. “We’ve got less time than we thought, but we’ve still got time. It’s not over until it’s over. I still believe we can do this. I still believe in us, and I still believe in this team. We will succeed.”
Adam checked around the room, making eye contact with each of them, to make sure that he had their full attention.
“We’re not giving up?” Dan asked. Adam shook his head.
“But it’s impossible to stop him now,” Carlos argued.
“No, it’s not. It’s just harder,” Adam said. “And I don’t know about all of you, but I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.”
Adam smiled. “Okay, the election is in June. It’s now March. So we’ve got three months to make this come together, and we can. It’s time to get serious. We can’t go half-hearted, we have to go hard, we have to go big, and we can no longer be afraid. Nothing great ever comes from staying in your comfort zone.”
“Damn,” Mercedes smiled her approval, looking at him like she knew how he felt. Like he’d found himself.
“So let’s lay out a plan, a real one this time,” Adam said. “Carlos—we can’t keep running supplies out from under Blake. We need something of our own. See what you can come up with. Dan—we need to get the law on our side. See what you can do about getting some officials on our books. Even better if you can steal them from Blake’s side. Paul—we need to expand into the arms’ contracts, I want to know everything you know about Blake’s gun supply chains. Mercedes—you’re the eyes on the inside,” he said, even though it made him cringe to admit the advantage. “I want to know what he’s doing and when he’s doing it.”
Adam looked around the room at his friends. His heart was beating fast and heavy, he was terrified, but he knew some things were bigger than fear. His dreams were bigger than his fears. Somehow, he truly felt like he didn’t have to push his fear away, that he could harness it, build it, grow it inside of him until it turned into nothing but inspiration.
“We all get that?” Adam asked, noticing each of them nod their heads in approval. “Good. Let’s get to work.”
* * *
When Mercedes arrived home, the maid informed her that Dorian had requested her presence on the back terrace. So she’d walked straight through the house, through the bifold doors at the rear, and down the Mediterranean stone steps to the terrace overlooking the water. It was only once she saw T.B., Yani, and Antonio all gathered around in a circle and the powerboat floating on the private deck, that her suspicions raised.
The powerboat always meant Dorian was in the mood for murder. Whose, though? That remained to be seen.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she approached them.
“Couldn’t tell you,” Antonio said as he flicked a cigarette from his hand into the open waters.
“He’s pissed about something,” T.B. said. “Don’t fucking know why, it’s not like he just successfully killed Diego or anything.”
Mercedes raised her brow in T.B.’s direction.
“Oh, right,” T.B. winced. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
As they heard the click of Dorian’s footsteps approaching from the house, they turned expectantly.
“Honey, what’s going on?” Mercedes asked.
“Something big is happening,” Dorian said, eyeing them all. “Get onto the boat.”
She hated when he kept his face blank like that. It made him so difficult to read. But obviously he wasn’t the biggest fucking crime boss in the city because he plastered his face with his emotions twenty-four-seven.
Mercedes glanced again at the powerboat. T.B., Yani, and Antonio all exchanged nervous and defensive looks. Like they also knew powerboats meant murder, and one of them would be returning as shark food. Upon closer inspection...nope, this motley crew looked like they’d feed each other to the sharks to save their own skins.
Antonio started, “Is that really–”
“Get on the fucking boat!!”
