Page 4 of One for the Money

“Ristoleeno, buddy, old pal, I need you to explain to me once more why the fuck you sent Norbie my way,” I said, not bothering to offer a typical greeting. “Did you know he was late again?”

There was a beat of silence before Risto answered. “Is he still alive?”

“Last I saw, he was, but his buddy was driving rather recklessly, so I can’t make any promises,” I offered.

“Dammit,” Risto swore. “I thought for sure you’d kill him this time. Hell, I even told him to stand his ground if you made him pay more for the goods as punishment.”

Kicking my feet up on the corner of my desk, I drummed my fingers on the armrest. “Are you telling me you purposely gave him bad information so I’d kill the fucker?”

“Ah…” Risto started, then stopped, his unease palpable through the phone. “Maybe?”

“Ris, what the fuck is going on, and don’t even think about shelling out some bullshit sob story because I won’t give a flying fuck,” I warned.

“He was trying to get in good with Alfons and take my place by turning Alfons against me,” Risto explained. “So I pretended not to know what was going on and said you were on the outs with the big man so you wouldn’t sell to us. He thought he was being the hero getting the goods from you on the down-low so the prick could look good to Alfons, saving the day or some bullshit. Now he’s still alive and got the C4 I was supposed to order from you.”

No longer interested in whatever else Risto had to say, I dropped the phone back on the cradle, hanging up on him. Part of me wanted to call Alfons and tell him what dumbasses he was working with, but then I’d have to give a rat’s ass, and I didn’t. Yanking my feet off the desk, I stood up, about ready to pull out my hair.

“Tell me we have someone in the cells,” I snapped.

Bear nodded and headed out to fetch them. Many people believed I got the nickname, The Wolf, because I could track anyone down. That was only partially the reasoning. Those who really knew me found it fitting for how feral I could be when irritated. Spinning back around, I grabbed the phone and punched in the code to ring Ballio.

“Boss,” Ballio answered after the second ring. “The warehouse is being dealt with as we speak.”

“Good, but that’s not why I’m calling,” I stated. “Find Risto, bag him, and bring him to me. Then I want you to do the same for his buddy, Norbert. No explanation, and you don’t have to be gentle. They’re both on my shit list.”

“Now?” Ballio questioned.

“As long as they are here by tomorrow afternoon, I’m happy. Don’t fuck this up, Balto. I have a girls’ night planned with Poison and Queenie,” I shared.

Everyone knew how important girls’ night was to me since Astin flew back home to Mansara. Girlfriends had never been something I had growing up, so having these two women in my life was monumentally important to me.

“Understood, boss. If not tonight, they will be there first thing in the morning waiting for you,” Ballio assured me.

Hanging up the phone once more, I headed to the cells where Bear would be waiting for me with my punching bag. With all the turmoil in the criminal world, I’d found myself with more guests in my cells than normal. Anyone who cheated, stole, or pissed me off in one way or another found themselves a guest in my underground cells. The uproar of me finally picking a side had apparently chapped some people’s asses, leading them to make poor life choices.

The man who Bear was holding by the throat was now in the ‘find out’ stage of fucking around. I recognized him as one of the pair who were ballsy enough to try and hijack one of my shipments as it was being unloaded at the docks. His buddy hadn’t survived long enough to share in this experience. Too bad so sad, now this thieving fucker gained my full attention, something no one wanted.

“Oh, goodie, a guest who isn’t expected to be checking out of our lovely little establishment,” I cheered, clapping my hands excitedly. “Because I am the hostess with the mostest, I will offer you two options of how you’re going to die. One option, we can play a game of laser tag with real guns, or the second option is a good old-fashioned fist fight in the ring.”

“Psycho bitch, I’m not playing your games. If you’re just going to kill me, then kill me already,” the thief said before spitting at me.

Lucky for him, he had terrible aim and zero skills at intimidation.

“Yeah, see, here’s the thing…” I drawled, stepping a little closer. “That’s boring, and I hate to be bored, which is why I came up with roughly fifty different games to play to spice things up a bit.”

“If I win, do I get to leave?” he asked.

Laughter burst out of me at his question. I nearly doubled over at how ridiculous his question was. “Oh God, I needed that,” I managed to say, still catching my breath. “You’re pretty funny, you know that? Do you get to live… ha. What kind of message would I be sending if I let you live after trying to steal from me?”

“You really are fucked up in the head, aren’t you?” he questioned, almost as if he hadn’t believed the rumors about me.

I flashed a toothy grin, showing off my sharpened canines for added effect. “Guilty as charged. Now, did you decide on a game? Since you made me laugh, if we play laser tag, I’ll give you a flashlight to use.”

“How does that help me?” he accused.

Cocking my head, I tapped my chin. “Hmm, are you scared of the dark? I hear having a flashlight helps to calm your fear.”

The man gawked at me as if I had said something odd. Shaking his head, he let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “Fight, at least then I know I’ll die going toe-to-toe with you.”