Page 153 of Loyalty

“Tim-Tim-Tim …”

Fuck this shit.

John pulled out the gun hidden inside his jacket, took a step forward, and beat Drake in the head with it. Once, and then twice. Again and again until the man’s face was a bloody fucking mess. The rage that swelled through John was addictive. Finally, an emotion he understood, and one that was not so overwhelming because he knew exactly what to do with it.

John blinked, and in the next second, Drake was dead on the ground. His face was smashed in, and bloody. No breath left his lips.

“Jesus Christ, John.”

He’d forgotten about his cousin. Andino hadn’t forgotten about him, it seemed.

John stepped back, and straightened. In a flash, Andino had taken John’s gun out of his hand and kept it out of reach. John took another step back, and then another. Andino kept looking at him in that way of his.

“John,” Andino said, “look at me.”

He did, but he didn’t like the sight looking back at him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Andino asked. “Coming here like that, making a fucking public scene, and dragging him out of there where anybody could see you do it, John? And now somebody’s going to come back here, and find his dead body. Guess who they’re going to call. Guess who’s going to take the rap for it, John. You. Where’s your judgement—you didn’t know this was a bad idea?”

John blinked, and his fists curled in tight balls at his sides. “I’m trying to get some fucking information.”

“About the file?”

“How did you know about the file?”

Andino glanced away. “Not important, but is that what it is?”

“It is fucking important. Was it you?”

Disbelief stared John right in the face.

“Do you seriously think it was me?” Andino asked.

No.

Still …

“Somebody from our family sent me that file. They want me to know—they think I forgot what the Calabrese did to my family.”

“John, listen to yourself.”

This was all bad.

All of it.

His brain raced, and his heart thundered.

“John, where are you going?”

He didn’t answer his cousin. He was already at the mouth of the alleyway, and stepping out onto the street when Andino yelled for him again.

Behind him, he could hear Andino making a call.

“Yeah, I got a mess that needs cleaned.” Andino rattled off an address. “No, don’t let the boss know and don’t tell my father, either. This is for me. Let’s keep it on the low.”

John was already gone.

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