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Max
I press the gas, a sharp pain shooting straight up my leg and exploding in my gut. “Motherfucker!” I yell, speeding through yellow lights, praying that I don’t get pulled over by a cop looking to bust me. I screech to a halt when my luck runs out and the next traffic light turns a bright red.
Who the fuck can I call? If I dial Nico’s number, I’m gonna have to tell him more than I’m ready to right now. I need to get to my dad. He may be a fucking lying sack of shit, but he’s still my father, and he might be in bad shape.
Or worse, knowing Mikey.
I grab my phone while my truck sits at the light, and I stab Rocco’s number. I hate like hell to do it, and putting trust in people who’ve fucked you over before really isn’t my thing, but I’m desperate right now.
A few seconds later, I hear his asshole voice on the line. “Yeah? You ready to apologize yet, dickhead?”
“Rocco, I need help.” I swallow hard, making a turn onto Route 46. It’s a straight shot to the job site, and I don’t have a second to spare. “I need you to find Sloane. She was at some benefit tonight for the hospital. Find her, okay? I’m afraid something is about to happen, and I don’t know what, but I need to make sure she’s safe.”
“Max, what the hell are you talking about? What’s about to happen? Where the fuck are you?”
“Something about my dad. I can’t tell you any more than that right now.” I press the heel of my hand against my forehead. “Just find her. And leave Nico out of this right now, okay? I don’t want Shaye finding out and going ape-shit until I can get some answers.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to tell anyone anything? You haven’t given me dick here!”
“I know, and I hate to ask you of all people for a favor, but I need help. Fast.”
“You’re a real prick, you know that?”
“Yeah, but right now, I’m a prick that needs backup. So get the fuck to it.”
Rocco is silent for a second. “Fine. But only cause you asked nicely. Now tell me how the hell to find her.”
“The benefit is at the Essex House. Get over there because I don’t know how long she’ll stay. Text me as soon as you find her.”
“Okay.”
I click to end the call and drop the phone in my lap. The bloody, severed fingers are wrapped in a t-shirt, sitting in the passenger seat. Like I could call Nico right now, when he’s home with Shaye, and tell him what I just heard about my father. I’m betraying the family by holding back this information. I’m rejecting the code to protect my own, and that’s very fucking bad.
Is it true? Did he fucking sell Joe Salesi out to the Cappodamo family? Christ, I may despise my dad, but I have to know why he pulled this shit. I need him to explain what the fuck he was thinking when he made these asinine decisions that put all of our asses on the chopping block.
Was it for the money? Was it for the power? Or was it that he’s always been jealous of Joe and wants nothing more than to take him down once and for all?
My thoughts are all over the place right now, and it’s hard to make sense of anything flying through my mind.
An image of Sloane’s smiling face takes center stage and my gut clenches. I let her down, too. Christ, there’s no shortage of people I haven’t disappointed in my life.
Please let her be safe. Please don’t let them have gotten to her.
I have texted and called her no less than twenty times since I got into my truck. And nothing went through. Calls go straight to voicemail, texts go undelivered. That alone makes me panic. If I can’t get to her, nobody else can either, right? And if she’s at the benefit, she’ll be surrounded by people, right?
Yeah, Gianni could be one of them…
I slam my fist on the steering wheel. I’m the reason Sloane is in danger, and why my father has been sliced up like a fucking salami. Those pricks aren’t after anyone but me…and they’ll take down whomever they can to make sure I suffer just as much.
I swing the wheel around, the tires squealing on the pavement. I slam on the brakes and the truck stops short right in the center of the empty lot. I push open the door and run across the gravel, slipping on the icy patches but managing to keep myself from landing on my ass. Construction vehicles line the perimeter of the space, and scaffolding covers the exterior of the buildings. The large shed where our offices are set up is dark, so I jog past it. If they were going to torture him somewhere, they’d leave him in the cold afterward because that’s just the kind of sick assholes they are.
My fingertips are numb from the cold, and I stuff them into my pockets to thaw them out. Gusts of air whish past me, my breath clouding in front of my face. The beads of perspiration drizzling down my back only seconds earlier are now tiny balls of ice clinging to my skin. But throwing on a coat was the last thing on my mind when my eyes hit those fingers.
“Dad!” I yell out, running as best as I can into the maze of framing. It’s dark, except for the moonlight shining through the piles of wood and metal. I turn on my iPhone light, and it prevents me from crashing into a massive concrete mixer. My heart thuds as I round corners, going deep into the center of the soon-to-be strip mall. “Dad!” I call out again, my voice echoing in the eerie silence.
I strain my ears to hear anything, any indication that he’s here…and alive.
But there is no sound at all, other than the blood rushing between my ears.
