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“Will do.”
“Also, vet this friend Taylor.” Romeo drums his fingers on his desk. “According to Katerina, Taylor’s the one who had the connection to the now-deceased Russell.”
“On it.” Reaching into my jacket pocket, I hand Sam an envelope. “Kick ups for the week.”
Sam takes out the money and begins counting.
“Anything else I need to know?” Romeo asks, and it feels like a loaded question.
A part of me wants to come clean—tell them about my relationship with Katerina, but I bite my tongue. If she is dirty, then what does it say about my skills as a capo that I fell for a honey trap on day one? Hoping this response isn’t my death knell, I say, “No.”
“Very well,” Romeo says. “Keep me posted.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Kat
Enzo drops me off at my apartment, where my car is parked out front. “Hope there’s no hard feelings,” he tells me, opening the SUV door and handing me my gym bag.
The adrenaline having worn off, all I can do is nod.
I walk to the front door of my condo, my hand shaking something awful as I try to fit the key in the lock. Finally getting it on the third try, I open the door and step inside, closing and locking it before sliding down to the floor. Tucking my head between my knees, I try not to hyperventilate.
My phone rings, and I rifle through my bag until I find it. It’s Taylor calling. Uh-oh. I completely forgot I just pulled a Houdini on my friend.
Taking a deep breath and releasing it, I answer the phone. “Hey girl?—”
“Not, hey girl! What the hell?” Taylor shrieks. “You disappeared, and I swear to God, I thought someone kidnapped you!”
“Sorry I bailed on you; there was a situation I had to deal with,” I try to say as calmly as possible. “I owe you brunch and mimosas next time.”
“You owe me more than brunch and booze. I was this close to calling the cops and reporting you missing!”
“Taylor, I’m so sorry. I was dealing with a family emergency, and there was no time to let you know what was up.” A family emergency. Ha.
“Everything alright?” she asks, concern in her voice.
“Yeah. I just had to run to Newark to keep an eye on Iris,” I lie.
“Why? Darius get into some kind of shit?”
“No.” I’m the one who got into some kind of shit. A big, steaming pile of it.
“Kat, you know you can talk to me,” she says gently.
Not about this, I can’t. “Thanks, but there’s nothing to talk about.”
“I don’t like this. You’ve been acting sketchy just as Dominic gets back in town. You disappear with a mystery guy for the weekend. And now, you bail on me because of a secret family emergency.”
“When you put it that way, it does sound bad,” I joke.
“You sure everything’s alright?” Taylor presses.
“I promise I’m good. Look, I’ve got to go.” I hang up before she asks more questions; the less Taylor knows, the safer she is.
Tossing my phone and bag on the coffee table, I walk upstairs to the bathroom and grab my toothbrush—vigorously brushing my teeth and tongue to get the taste of bile out of my mouth.
