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“We’re not in class. Speak up,” I say.
“We can ask Eddy. Maybe he knows.”
“I would love to, but he’s still recovering,” I reply. My eyes shift to Dream. “He needs to rest if he’s going to break everything down for us with full clarity.”
“That’s right,” she says, nodding in approval. “Dr. Waters said to give him a few days, at least.”
I’ve been looking to her more often for guidance. After she pulled off the trade with Diego and managed to come out of it in one piece, I know I can count on her to keep her wits when things get tough. That’s hard to find, which is another reason why I’ve kept Jasha so close all these years. He knows how to handle Bratva business, and something tells me that Dream does too.
Jasha pulls a cigar out of his jacket pocket and lights it, immediately giving me the itch to smoke with him. I’ve gone without a cigar long enough to say I’ve broken the habit, but Jasha doesn’t seem to realize that. He fishes around in his pocket and pulls out a second one, leaning forward and holding it out to me without me having to ask.
Dream doesn’t seem to care, so I take it and fill the silence with smoke for a minute or two before continuing.
“Gabriel has been bugging me for information all morning, and I haven’t responded, so I guess he knows something is up,” I finally say. “We’re going to have to delay this, but he’s going to have a lot of questions if we do.”
“You could come clean and explain things to him,” Dream suggests, but her expression is doubtful. “Or, just drop this whole thing and go back to the United States. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but maybe it’s for the best.”
“No,” I say softly, but in a definitive manner. “We stirred the pot already, and they’re not going to get any smaller, especially not with an extra two million dollars in their pocket. We need to strike now.”
Dream takes a deep breath like she’s about to say something, but stops suddenly, frowning as she looks past me toward the doorway.
I turn to see Eddy standing there, propping himself up against the frame.
“Eddy, what’s wrong?” Dream asks, jumping to her feet.
“I don’t need anything,” he says quickly, holding out his hand to stop her from running up to him. “I just heard what you were talking about, and I think I can help.”
“But… you need rest.”
He laughs, and something about the combined rasp of his voice and the coldness of his tone sends a shiver down my spine. I know immediately that he’s seen some serious shit when he was being held by the Cartel, probably things Dream couldn’t possibly imagine.
But I can.
“Sit here,” I say, getting up from my velvet chair and motioning for Eddy to sit.
He thanks me, slowly walking over and falling down into it with a thin sigh. He looks around the room, at Jasha and Dream, and then up at me. He smiles. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of a formal introduction.”
I extend my hand for a shake. “Nikolai.”
“Eddy,” he says, shaking my hand with surprising conviction.
I’m impressed by how well he’s handling being out of bed. He really shouldn’t be wandering around, per the doctor’s orders, but I’m not one to police other men. I have enough on my plate with Dream.
“Eddy, don’t you want to go back home?” Dream asks, still standing by the couch.
“No,” he replies flatly. “Not until we’re done here.”
“Good man,” I mutter.
Dream shoots me a look, but I already know I’ve won. She already got to take her risks, and now I’ll take mine. It goes both ways.
Eddy holds up his finger to keep Dream from talking. “And I’ll tell you why. Maybe then, you will understand where I’m coming from, and why I stole from the Cartel in the first place.”
I was interested in hearing what he had to say before, but now, I’m completely engrossed, hanging on the edge of his words as he begins to break down how this all began.
“At first, it was all about the money. I mean, why else does anyone get into slinging dope?” Eddy laughs, this time with more genuine amusement. “But then I started to get a little too big, and the Cartel showed up. It was just one guy, Luis, who introduced me to the big leagues. They said I had a promising career ahead of me, so they loaded me up with stuff so pure it’d burn a hole through your lungs if you tried to smoke it. Not P50. Mostly just crack at first, but it was good stuff. I sold out quickly and they let me keep half the profits.”
“You’ll keep seventy-five if you deal with us,” Jasha says.
