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He strokes my hair out of my face and stares into my eyes.
“Do I have your loyalty, Mads?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“I need to know I can trust you with everything.”
I nod.
“Don’t ever betray me, it’s the one thing I won’t forgive.”
I swallow and nod again.
His eyes narrow at me. “You’re shaking…what’s wrong, Mads?”
Tell him about the gun! I scream in my head.
I give him a shaky smile. “I’m c-cold.”
His furrowed brow softens as a light smile graces his lips. “Let’s get you inside, in front of a fire.”
As soon as I get the chance, I’ll throw the gun into the river. But with the cops watching my every move, when can I slip away to do it?
Chapter 16 – Sergei First Rights Revenge
StiegandIaredriving back from meeting with the Giusto family head in an effort to smooth over some fallout over a recent turf dispute with the Italians. Lives were lost, and property was destroyed, but we came up with an amicable solution and agreed to let bygones be bygones.
“Since we’re up this way, why don’t we stop at McCormick’s for some steaks,” Stieg says as we speed along I-95. “And the lemon cream cake, man, it’s almost as good as my mom’s. You up for it?”
I check the time. Madison’s shift ends in forty-five minutes, but then she’s going to swing by the clinic to drop off some canned goods for the food drive. I’m certain I can stop for dinner and still make it home not too long after she gets in.
“Sure, why not.”
“That was good work back there, Bash. Smart. You’re going to make a great boss.”
I nod. “Speaking of which, after Yuri’s wedding, at the hotel-- It’ll be you, me and Mikhail,” I say.
“Mikhail, you sure?”
“Yeah, remember Sergei had Mikhail’s brother whacked just because Sergei’s wife had it bad for him. He never did anything, never crossed a line with her but Sergei still had him done to save face.”
Stieg nods. “Yeah, that was pretty fucked up. But I don’t think Mikhail’s popped his cherry yet. You don’t want him going soft on us in the middle of the job.”
“He’ll do fine.”
He takes the exit for McCormick’s. When we arrive, there’s a line out the door, but Stieg goes right in slips the Matre’d a fifty and we’re seated within two minutes. The steaks and potatoes are every bit as good as we remembered. While we ate, we discussed a few legitimate business matters and caught up on how his boys were doing on the junior varsity football team.
When we finish our entrées, I check the time. Madison’s shift has ended about thirty minutes ago and I’m ready to head out. The dessert arrives and Stieg asks for five more minutes to scarf it down. We’re waiting on the check when my cell phone buzzes with a text message.
Thinking it might be Madison wondering where I am, I fish it from my pocket and eye the screen.
Sergei.
The text reads: First rights with the Doc tonight.
“Yeah, you keep it up asshole,” I mutter. “You’ll get yours.”
“What’s that?” Stieg asks, forking down his last bite of cake.
