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“Where we going, skipper?” Vince asks, pausing the security footage from Ace’s Wild.
I curl my lips. “To fuck with John Davis.”
The guys hoot and holler as we walk out back to my refrigerated truck, loading it with an assortment of tools, spray paint, and other goodies. “We swipe what we can move from the site; finder’s keepers. Everything else we can’t move, we fuck up.” That elicits another round of excited cheers. “Let’s roll.” The men pile in the back and in other vehicles, following me across town.
Our convoy arrives at the construction entrance at the back of The Diamond. The worksite’s closed for the evening, and I roll my window down to address the lone security guard seated in the booth. “Special delivery.” I hand him an envelope of cash.
“You’ve got two hours and forty-three minutes,” he tells me, glancing at his watch before he pockets the money.
“Understood.” I set a timer on my phone as he steps out of the booth to move the barricade.
Pulling inside the fenced-in area, I park and hop out. Surveying the site, I announce when my crew joins me, “Let’s get to work on the padlocks on the cargo containers. Guarantee that’s where the power tools and copper pipes are stored. Remember, we load what we can, and we slash tires and wires on the heavy equipment,” I remind everyone.
Grabbing a can of red spray paint, I give it a shake before spraying an X over all the Phoenix Construction bird logos. Just a little warning shot to John Davis. He undercut the family to land this construction project, and it’s going to cost him. In more ways than one.
Kat
It’s nearly four in the morning, and I’m dead on my feet as I exit the casino after my shift.
I stop short; leaning against my car is my ex-boyfriend. “There you are,” Dominic says.
“Here I am. And here you are—somewhere you shouldn’t be while you’re on parole,” I warn him.
“I’m not gambling. You and me are a sure bet.” He flashes a panty-melting smile.
I snort a laugh. “Get out of here with that bullshit. I’ve moved on and so should you.”
“With who?” His nostrils flare as he stalks over to me.
“Katerina, let’s go,” Fabio says, seeming to appear out of nowhere.
“Who the fuck is this?” Dominic demands.
“This is my…” I pause, unsure how to finish that sentence. Boss? Extortionist? Hook up buddy? “Friend.”
“Well friend, I’m her boyfriend,” Dominic interjects, looking Fabio up and down, sizing him up. Dominic must like his odds, because he makes a show of cracking his knuckles. Fucking idiot.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I correct him.
“Dominic Leos. Parole Officer Kegan oversees your case, yes?” Fabio asks, smoothing down his silk tie.
“How the fuck do you know that?” Dominic demands.
“Run along, now,” Fabio says in a patronizing tone, “before your parole officer finds out you’re violating curfew, at a gambling establishment that serves alcohol, no less.”
“You know what happens to snitches?” Dominic menaces.
“I’m ready,” I blurt out, taking Fabio’s hand and leading him away before Dominic gets his dumb ass killed for disrespecting a family man.
“See you around, Dominic,” Fabio calls over his shoulder.
“Fucking count on it,” Dominic returns.
Fabio leads me to his blacked-out SUV, opening the door for me. I climb onto the leather seat as he silently closes the door, walking around the vehicle and sliding behind the wheel.
“Please don’t kill Dominic,” I beg. “He doesn’t know who you are.”
“He will soon enough,” he simply says.
