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A goon is just about to land another blow when McAllister stops him.
“Wait,” he says. “She’s here. And she’s not alone.”
28
SAVANNAH
I drive the Nissan Leaf to a small abandoned warehouse outside of Austin. In the darkness, it stands solitary in a stretch of arid land against the dusty trails that characterize the outskirts of the city. The paint peels on its exterior, and there’s nothing around it.
The perfect place to hold someone captive.
Horrific images of what they’ve done to Falcon fly through my mind. I can’t help but think about what my grandfather did to Vinnie. Will he do the same to Falcon?
Or—oh my God—something even worse?
Falcon isn’t family. Maybe he has something even worse in mind. Torture…or worse.
My stomach twists into knots.
My brother sits beside me in the passenger seat, quiet and stern. He knows. He knows more than I do of what Falcon is up against inside this place.
And he hasn’t enlightened me.
I pull into a parking spot, away from the other vehicles that are there, but close enough to the entrance that we can reach the car in a hurry. Vinnie and I leave the car and walk toward the front doors, which, oddly, are ajar.
They want me to come in. This is an invitation.
Vinnie shoves me behind him and takes the lead, opening the door slowly. The rusty hinges groan, announcing our arrival.
He walks inside ahead of me. When I follow, I inhale. The air is heavy with scents of mildew and dust. I expect rats to scutter by my feet, maybe stray cats as well.
I try to catch my breath, grasping Vinnie’s hand, when a large man in black emerges from the shadows.
“Who are you?” Vinnie demands.
“Who the fuck are you?” the man hurls back.
“I’m Vincent Gallo, Junior,” he says, his voice large and commanding. “I’m here to see my grandfather, Mario Bianchi.”
The man’s jaw drops.
“Where’s Falcon?” I demand. “What have you done with him?”
But the man pays no attention to me. He’s focused on Vinnie. “What the fuck?”
“Get my grandfather out here now,” Vinnie says through clenched teeth.
“No can do, you lying asshole.” He grabs Vinnie and frisks him, taking his gun.
Then he stalks toward me.
“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Vinnie says. “She’s Savannah Gallo, my sister, and my family and the McAllisters will kill you if you lay a hand on her.”
“She carrying?” he asks.
Vinnie scoffs. “A woman? Carrying? What do you think?”
The man cocks his head.
