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I finished dressing after my father passed. I selected my weapon of choice and slicked my hair back, then I bandaged my shoulder beneath my shirt.
A platitude at best, but I feel it’s something Minka would want. If I can’t remove myself from the inevitable showdown, then the least I can do is strap my injured arm and hope not to tear it open again.
Streetlights pulse as we make our way east along the 95. The air is warm, and the wind, just loud enough to make me think of Minka and magic.
Waterfalls.
Making love.
As though my thoughts have the power to summon her, my phone trills in my pocket, her ringtone enough to make Felix’s scowl turn into a playful smirk. He was in his own world, plotting and planning, but now he watches me with a glint in his eyes that swears he’d fuck my wife with me watching, if only she looked his way.
Digging my hand into my pocket and fishing out the device, I consider for only a second not answering. Any other time, any other place, I wouldn’t take her call in front of people I don’t trust. Especially not Malones, or even anyone who knows the New York Malones.
But these guys are my brothers.
I don’t particularly like them, but I choose to trust them. I choose to give them that much.
Answering the call and bringing the phone to my ear, I can’t help the smile that crosses my lips before she even speaks. “Mayet?” I keep my voice low; my feeble attempt at privacy inside a car filled with soldiers. “Hey. What are you doing?”
“Hey.” Her sweet voice fills every empty space inside me. Her cheerful tone, and her happy word. “You didn’t call me all day again.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, looking out my window and watching as streetlights pass us by. “I’ve been ridiculously busy today. But I was thinking about you.”
“You were?” I feel her smile, even if I’m being robbed of the chance to see it. “I was thinking about you too. In fact, I got to sit in on an interrogation today with Detective Franklin. I felt like a real cop for an hour.”
“You did?” My lips curl up to the side. “You feel kinda badass being me?”
“For a minute,” she snickers. “But I especially thought of you because he blew me a kiss and looked so stupid doing it.”
“Franklin blew you a kiss?” My father is dead, and my brother might be dying. Hell, I might be on my way to death too, but I sit taller and scowl when Tim’s eyes snap over to mine. “Why the fuck is he doing that?”
“No,” she laughs. “Fentone blew the kiss. That dopey old rapist bastard. He thought it would be cute to hit on me—back when he thought I was soft and sweet and docile.”
“Oh…” A scoff rolls along my chest and out to alert my brothers all is well. “He thought you were nice? That’s cute.”
“Right? Franklin warned me he’d hurt my feelings and be disgusting. He thought I’d be a little too sensitive to handle it.”
“And then he saw you in action,” I happily sigh. “Did you rearrange Fentone’s face for the kiss?”
“Someone kissed her?” Tim snarls. “Arch?!”
“No.” I lower the phone a fraction of an inch. “Dude tried to flirt with her. She ended it really quickly. Now shush.” I bring the phone closer again. “Tim says hey.”
“Tell him hey back,” she answers. “Where are you?”
“In the car. We’re heading somewhere tonight that’ll hopefully take care of our bullshit. We’ll get Micah back and teach some folks a lesson.”
“Safely?” she counters. “Right?”
“Well…” I feel my handgun strapped to my chest. And the rest of our arsenal stored in the trunk. “I’ll do my very best to be safe,” I tell her instead. “But I don’t expect a lot of trouble. I promise. In fact, I expect Pastore will reconsider his actions and apologize for what he did.”
“Damn fuckin’ right,” Felix sneers. “We walk in, we take back what’s ours, then we leave a reminder that Malones aren’t to be trifled with.”
“Hm.” I don’t have to see Minka’s face to know she purses her lips. I don’t have to look in her eyes to know she’s not pleased with my brother’s big mouth. “It sure sounds like you’ve got things under control over there, Detective. Have you finessed your plan from therun in and smash thingsscenario you were working with yesterday? Or is that still the best you’ve got?”
A soft chuckle rolls along my throat. “It’s what we’ve got,” I admit. “But it’s not as barbaric as it sounds. We’re walking in and opening negotiations with a businessman.”
“A businessman?”
