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“Shut your fucking mouth.”
“I saw your handy work this morning,” he finishes as though I didn’t threaten him.
Jesus, fuck. Everyone can see it. It looks like she was mauled. I put the iPad on my thigh. “Let’s say I’ve had better experiences.” I pause, realizing how that sounds. “In handling shit. Not . . . that.”
Nicolo mutters something, and Diego shakes his head.
They start to argue the merits back and forth along with the state of my street fucking cred. I tune them out because I actually like them. They’re family, and I don’t want to explain to Leo why two of his enforcers are in small, broken pieces.
When she took off and her friend stepped in my path, that was a slap across the face. Not that I expected her to come along happily. But she wasn’t even being a brat. I had Wendy and one of her girls there, keeping an eye on Karlee, reporting to Wendy and Wendy to me. So, when I got the text, it didn’t take much to extend the details on her a few more hours. Wendy will bring her home when needed.
She’d have been in Wendy’s care right now, anyway, as we have a few more stops to make before we go and see the kid, Brandon.
As for her friend, I just went the other way.
“. . . right?” finishes Nicolo.
I play back what was being said.
“You guys think we should take this to Leo now?”
“Two girls from the college,” says Nicolo. “Things are getting a little hot.”
“There’s a difference between hot and the right time. All we’ll do is send them spinning back into the mud.” Diego sends a message on his phone.
“Problem is, this is the kind of shit Leo, Theo, and Christian will take and run with. Before, maybe not, but now? We know enough to make that happen but not enough to know the why and to stop everything from exploding into a war,” I say. “It’s a fucking mess, and that guy we just saw?—”
“Don’t like affiliates of the 86s being here, man.” Diego looks at me. “They never used to venture this far out.”
“That you know of?” Nicolo says.
Diego shakes his head. “They’re from my fuckin’ town, I’d have heard before.”
The thing is, the more we learn, like just before from the informant, about how they all cross paths, El Cabeza, Lowlanders, and the 86s, the darker it gets.
And the Smith Group? Snippets of nasty things. Flailing alive a drug runner who tried to leave with some skimmings. Trafficking. Blackmail. Extortion. Some of it’s the usual shit, with a bitter and acrid twist that’s clear from those who know and don’t want to talk about it.
I can’t uncover clear links between the trafficking and them. Plus, I don’t know the role the Lowlanders play.
Leo doesn’t need to go to war with O’Grady, and we don’t want to start one up.
“The ties need to be clear,” I mutter. “Agreed?”
“You’re the boss,” says Nicolo. “But yeah, rock solid or as near as is the way to go. Just fucking irks me how often the same names keep turning up.”
“If O’Grady isn’t involved, it makes me wonder what he’s hearing about us,” I say.
They’ve both had real dealings with him, and it’s the same conclusion that I imagine someone else might have with Leo. He is a strong, dangerous man with his own rules and morals.
Which tells me nothing.
“It was mostly blondes with the trafficking, but now . . .”
“Brunettes. You think it’s just an expansion, Tizio, or an attempt at muddying the trail?”
“No fucking idea,” I say to Diego. “But we’ll find out.”
Brandon’s just getting home when we reach him. His eyes bug a little at the sight of three big guys, and he scrambles for his keys. I let Nicolo grab him and take the keys. He unlocks the door and hurls the kid in.
