Page 157 of Pink

The nickname had Lev meeting the man’s gaze, an understanding dawning on him that Andino had more people looking out for him than he previously realized. Even in this hellhole. The guard only smiled back.

“You have a visitor, by the way. I’ll accompany you down to the conference room. Arms outside of the bars so I can put your shackles on, please.”

Lev stood from the bed, asking, “More interviews with cops?”

Hadn’t he done enough?

Or hadn’t he been silent enough?

The guard only shrugged.

Well …

Whatever—or whoever—waited for him was better than sitting in this cell for the next several hours until someone decided to take him outside for a walk like he was a puppy.

Right?

• • •

Lev was surprised to see his boss sitting at the end of a long conference table where it would usually be a detective or one of his lawyers in the chair. Up until that second, Andino had done his best to stay away from the jail to keep the media circus at a bearable level. Not that any of it was bearable currently.

Nonetheless, if the mafia boss the media kept connecting Lev to in all the papers and reports wasn’t around … then they couldn’t prove he was affiliated to the man during the period of his lockup. Or that’s what the lawyers explained the last time he asked about Andino when they came for a chat.

“Boss,” Lev greeted, stepping inside the room.

“Are you leaving the shackles?” Andino asked the guard behind Lev.

“Better not push it in case someone does come around. You’ve got fifteen minutes … safely,” the guard replied. “One is doing his walk on the block. The other is downstairs fucking the clerk like he does every Saturday afternoon. You both should be good but not for too long. Don’t push it.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

Once the guard stepped out and closed the door behind him, Andino waved at the chair at the far end of the table. A to-go cup of coffee waited there for him, and Lev couldn’t help but be grateful for the familiar logo turned in his direction.

“Coffee from my favorite shop?”

“Right down the street from your place, yeah,” Andino replied. “Figured they probably weren’t giving you shit in here that was even worth putting in your mouth. It’s not been long enough for me to forget how jail treats a man like us, huh?”

Grunting his agreement, Lev dropped into the chair and grabbed for the to-go cup with shackled hands. The coffee wasn’t hot—barely even warm, actually—but he gulped that shit down because it was the best thing to have touched his lips in weeks.

“You made a deal with Marco that I didn’t approve … that I wouldn’t ever approve.”

Lev swallowed hard, setting the cup down in front of him on the table as he met Andino’s sharp gaze across the way. “I did.”

“Why?”

“You told me once to do what I needed to do for Gigi, remember? I needed the info.”

“I don’t work with skin traffickers, Pink.”

“I got the impression he would even be satisfied if you pulled your hand out of his many pots so that he could resume working … elsewhere even,” Lev said carefully.

Andino’s jaw worked a tic that just wouldn’t let up. A sure sign of his irritation if there ever was one. “You put me in a bad position. In more ways than one.”

“I’m not really sorry about it.”

“Mmm, because you got what you needed.”