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“The coders saw me.”
“The coders don’t count. You’d be a cautionary tale of what happens when they don’t behave. Plus, that kid, the emo one, was supposed to be the next you.”
Ego tasered to shreds, worse than Reinier’s current state, I scoffed, “How the fuck could anyone believe that piece of shit messaging service would withstand a cracker?”
There was always someone better than you out there—I’d been battling Star for that crown for the past eighteen months and had no trouble sharing it when the situation warranted it, but that code had been a sieve.
I’d have been able to build something better when I was twelve.
Temper shrugged. “They manipulate the media so much that they’ve started to believe their own fake news. Either that or you’re just as good as Star says you are.”
That pricked my attention. “She’s talked to you about me?”
“She has. But this isn’t Kindergarten, remember? I’m not going to tell you if she likes you.” Her eye roll told me what she thought about that. “What are we doing with Reinier then?” Her hand tightened around the gun when he groaned and started to wriggle on the floor. “I could always shoot him—”
“He’s Star’s,” I dismissed, reaching for her wrist and holding it firmly in my grip.
She tipped her head to the side. “She’s gone AWOL.”
“I’m well aware of that,” I groused.
“So you want us to hold him captive for her?”
I hitched a shoulder. “I can put out feelers. Maybe if she knows we’ve got him, she’ll come home.”
“She isn’t a lost cat who’ll come sniffing around for kibble, O’Donnelly! Jesus!” Temper triggered the Taser again when Reinier started flopping around harder than before.
When he released a shrill cry, I spat, “Watch it! The guard will come in.”
She sniffed. “If I do this, if I help you keep him alive rather than just kill the bastard, you won’t like it. Star won’t either.”
I glowered at her. “If you ‘do’ what?”
“Get him away from this place.”
“We have to leave him here and she’ll—”
Temper shook her head. “I’m burned now. If I don’t handle this situation, I’m toast.”
I hissed under my breath. “Your improv sucks.”
“Yeah, that’s why I plan everything down to the detail.” She scowled. “Usually.”
“Stick to your day job in the future, huh?” I sniped, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Who would you call for help? I can’t involve my family in this. They don’t even know I have a sideline with the government—”
“You don’t bring in kids to deal with this kind of shit,” she pshawed.
“Kids?” I snarled. “My brothers—”
“You own New York. Maybe half the East Coast, buddy. I’m talking about thebigboys.”
“The Camorra?” I countered in confusion.
“The Union.”
“The who?”
She ignored me. Tucking the gun back in her pocket, she withdrew her cell phone. I watched, finding faint amusement in her naivety as she tipped the screen away so I couldn’t see her input the code.
