Page 6 of Entangled By Him

CHAPTER 6

Maxim

I start to play back a different area of the footage so that I can see Anna from a different perspective. Earlier, I was watching on the side of the Jeep, and I missed something very important.

A text message came in from my guy that had one word, Cruz. No other explanation, nothing else. I didn’t respond, I just want to wait and see if he has anything else to add to it.

The view from the different angle on the video shows mainly the guard side. I can see Jax on the phone and he’s stomping around. My normal thought would be he’s trying to figure out where the fuck I was, but it looks like something else.

Jax starts to talk to Mason as he sends off a text message. A few minutes later, there’s a lot of commotion over by the four SUV’s. A man is being grabbed and pulled out of one of them.

“Fuck,” I mutter as I realize this can only mean one thing. They found my guy, and he’s the one that’s been pulled out of the car.

I can see Jason quickly work on his phone, that must’ve been when he was sending me the message of his snitch. I grab my empty glass off the desk and throw it hard against the wall as I scream.

I’m not just pissed that my guys been caught and most likely this will be the end of him. I’m fuming because I can’t stand fucking snitches.

Cruz is gonna pay for this. First that son of a bitch breaks into my house and tries to take what’s mine, then he snitches on my guy. I start to pace around the room as I quickly send Booker a message for him to come here.

There’s a law in our lives, you don’t snitch for anything. You don’t snitch to the cops and you don’t snitch to other family members. No matter how much you hate the other person. The only thing that can happen is going to get you killed.

Booker comes in the office, his smile disappears from his face is he sees the expression on mine. “What happened?”

“Cruz. I’m done with that little bitch.” I walk over to my bar and pour myself another drink. Damn, I was free of this shit for at least an hour. “He ratted out Jason.”

Booker slumps down in the recliner. He hates snitches just about as much as I do. We’re taught this from the day we’re born, the different rules about being in the Mafia and he follows it like a religion.

“It’s time to end him. He has fucked me over so many times, I’m done. I didn’t want to deal with him breaking into the house. He should’ve been killed then.” I slam back my drink and then fill it up again walking back to my desk.

“I’ll take care of it.” Booker states as he gets up and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

I don’t ask for the details right now, it’s better that I don’t know. I’m too fuming mad. The only thing I want right now is to do the deed myself. It can’t happen. I stay far away from the radar of the cops, FBI and etc. Even though most of them are in my pocket. There’s always that one little goody-two-shoes in every department that wants to make a name for themselves. What better way to do it than to take down a Mafia boss.

“I want you to snag Cruz for me,” I listen as Booker speaks. “Yes, I’m serious. Make sure that he’s not hurt in any way, Maxim gets to do that.”

I swirl the contents of my drink, watching the amber color of the liquor and continue listening. “I’ll send you the information. Every weekday he has lunch at the same spot, that’s the best place to grab him.”

Booker quickly ends the call and starts typing on his phone. Sending the address and other statistical information about the Italian restaurant that Cruz religiously eats at every single day of the week.

After he broke into the house, we started having Cruz watched. It’s been about four weeks, and his routine has not changed one bit. He likes to spend the weekends with his family. It’s a very long running tradition for the Mexican family.

During the week, he eats at the Italian restaurant and then picks up a different girl every night at a popular club he owns downtown. For the past month it has been the exact same thing. The man didn’t even get sick once.

Booker finishes typing out his message and then comes back and sits down on the recliner. It’s time to get to our other business that we have.

“Did everything go okay on the job? Any problems getting back?”

Booker glances up from his phone to look at me, he smiles as he says, “yes, the package is here. It’s downstairs in the basement ready for you.”

I want to ask exactly what happened, why the guy looks like a freaking bloodied mess, but I decide to wait on that, it can be taken care of later. Maybe they had to rough him up a little bit.

Curiosity makes me ask, “did he fight back?”

Booker laughs, “he tried.”

That makes me wonder. I thought all of the Moretti’s are highly trained. That’s something for another day to know about. I got too much shit in my head right now.

“So, what’s the plan? Are we doing this tonight, or are we waiting?”

“Tonight, I want this done and over with. One less fucking thing I have to worry about.” I slam back the rest of my drink, “I’m going to send the message off here in a few minutes. I’m just trying to figure out exactly how I want to word it.”

Booker smiles, he knows I’m enjoying this too much.

“I think I might actually go downstairs with our guest. I know I’m going to get a phone call, it’ll be better if he can hear everything that happens.”

Booker laughs. He knows I also like to fuck with people. If I didn’t, this job would be so fucking boring. Most people would be shocked by that comment, but it’s very repetitive, the same fucking thing day in and day out.

With my status now, I don’t go on that many jobs. I just basically sit here watching everything on video and drink. Perhaps what I need to start doing again is going back on the jobs with my guys. We would become a huge target, well I would. Maybe just a job here and there would help me out.

I leave my drink exactly where it was on my desk, empty and start to make my way out of the room. Booker follows me, he knows exactly where were going.

It’s time for me to have a little fun, maybe this one is weak, and I’ll be able to find out a lot of information. I doubt it, but it won’t hurt to try.

From the many sessions we’ve had down in the basement, some people take a while to break while others don’t. Sometimes all I have to do is give them a look and then they spill everything. Others will need a good torture session, while some you just need to press the right buttons. Even in a rage a man doesn’t realize how much information he lets slip.

Now it’s time to figure out the type of guy my guest is.

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