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"In Philly."
"From what I gathered, he has moved up in the ranks in a gang here. Has a higher position. That was how he rose from obscurity to suddenly being mentioned. No one talks about footmen. They're a dime a dozen. But the people in power get out there."
"What's the gang into?"
"Heroin," she said, shrugging. "Nothing special."
"Anything else?"
"Nothing else from him. But I haven't done any digging yet."
"Will ya?"
"I know I seem impulsive in some of my jobs, but this is important. I make sure I do my research before I make a move."
"What are ya feelin' about this whole situation?"
"I'm feeling done. I want to be done," she admitted, and there was pure truth in her words. She did want to be done. She didn't want this revenge plot to be her whole identity.
And that was a good thing.
That was something that said she was looking forward to other parts of her life.
Dare I think it?
A future with me.
"That's a good place to be, I think. Ya got a lot of life left to live. Ya shouldn't be spendin' it in yer past."
She nodded at that, looking off at the wall, taking a deep breath.
"I didn't get any food," she said, sounding grumbly.
"Well, can't have ya researchin' on an empty stomach, can we?" I asked, moving to stand.
"What are ya in the mood for?"
"Just not sushi," she demanded, curling her lip at the very idea.
"Got it," I agreed. "I'll be right back."
"Sounds good."
I should have heard the guardedness in her tone.
I should have known it would only be there for one reason.
Because she was trying to get rid of me.
Because she was planning on ditching me.
Because she had every intention of doing this by herself.
She'd probably left just moments after I took off on foot to get her something to eat.
I came back with two brown bags full of greasy food - her favorite - to an empty hotel room.
Her car was gone.
Her phone on the nightstand.
There was no way to get in touch with her.
Fuck.
I dropped the food on the nightstand, grabbing my keys, and heading back out on foot.
She wasn't the only one who could do research the good old-fashioned way.
And me, I was likely even more practiced at the art, having needed to track down more people than I could count in my life.
It was twenty minutes before I found out the three biggest gangs in the area. And there was only one that a man with clear Hispanic heritage would be welcome in, let alone allowed to gain some rank.
After that, it was just about getting on the right turf, watching people.
It was slowly getting dark.
The only people who would be hanging out on stoops would be gang members.
I watched until I saw a deal going down before approaching, pulling a gun out of my lower back where I kept it stashed when I wasn't just hanging out at home, and pressed it into his liver, "I have one question, and ya can live," I told him, watching the way his eyes darted around, looking for a fellow gang member to save him.
"The fuck you want to ask, asshole?"
"Where can I find Monty?"
To that, his lips curled up, a wicked, but amused smile. "You don't want to find Monty, man."
That was a warning if I had ever heard one.
"Say I do."
"Then I say you are trying to get yourself killed."
"Then I wouldn't be yer problem, would I?" I asked, cocking the gun, watching as the fear broke through the tough-guy persona he was trying to give off.
Ten minutes later, he was out cold and bound, giving me the time I needed to be able to get to Monty and Lou, and hopefully get everything handled, and back on the road before the little shite could tell the rest of his gang about what was going down.
Monty lived in a slightly nicer area of town than the rest of the gang, likely because the men at the top always made bank for a lot less work.
And like some breadcrumb to a parent looking for their children lost in the woods, I found Lou's Mustang parked in the lot out back.
Twenty floors.
Dozens of apartments.
And not a whole hell of a lot of time to figure out where they were.
I moved inside, finding nothing on the mailboxes that might give me insight.
It was pure luck that I came across an older woman walking out of her apartment in a huff. "Fucking gangbangers," she grumbled under her breath. "Can't hear myself think."
I glanced at the apartment she walked out of, figuring the noise must have been coming from directly above to send her out of her home.
I ran to the stairs, flying up so fast that I barely even remembered doing it at all, slamming the bar on the door to move down into the next hallway.
