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Couple baguettes and fresh rolls.
Flipping the lid of the cooler revealed cream cheese, cold cuts, plenty of water and soda, and…okay, he’d bought a lot. And I knew it was mostly for show, to make Luiz suffer more, but this was good. My stomach even tightened with approval.
Christ, River had bought coffee too. And poured it into a thermos. I filled a plastic mug and took a sip. It wasn’t as good as the coffee Shay made, but it still brought me back to life a little.
I didn’t remember the year, but when River and I had been around eighteen or nineteen, he’d stepped out to buy a shit-ton of Christmas stuff for us. It’d been just him and me. One of my fondest memories. He was like that. All or nothing. He couldn’t cook worth a damn, but he could put together a feast in his own way.
“You need to keep me alive,” Luiz blurted out. “Give me some water, at least.”
River refocused on him while I made us a couple sandwiches. “Why? Before I fell asleep this morning, you said you didn’t know anything.”
“I know people,” he spat out.
I chuckled under my breath. “Hear that, Riv? He knows people.”
“That’s nice.” River took a swig of his own coffee and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs.
“I can’t feel my hands,” Luiz said. “I have pain shooting up and down my arms, man.”
My condolences.
“It’s just your radial nerve,” my brother responded. “You don’t need it anymore.”
“You’ll die of thirst a lot sooner than nerve damage, I promise,” I added.
“Let me make a phone call,” Luiz grated out. “I can find out where your brother is.”
Our brother? Bless.
I handed River his sandwich and bit into my own.
Flakes of the baguette fell down my chest, and I leaned back and got comfortable.
I had to admit, the food tasted good. We needed this.
“You think we just barged into your house and kidnapped you,” River stated quietly.
Now was a good time to explain to Luiz how my brother functioned.
I took another bite of my sandwich and spoke with my mouth full. “You’re gonna have to be patient with River,” I said. “You say one thing, and he deduces something else on a whole other subject. Now, for instance—by you saying you can call someone who might know something, he reads between the lines and assumes you don’t think we’ve been paying attention. But the truth is, we’ve been following you for a week, Luiz. We know your day-to-day routine, where you drive, which cars you use, the people you talk to, that you visit your mother every other day, and that your favorite low-man is actually your nineteen-year-old cousin, and who knows, maybe we’ll kill him.”
I wouldn’t hesitate for a second.
“But I’m telling the truth!” he yelled. “I don’t know where they are!”
I cocked a brow.
River beat me to it and spoke first. “But you knowwhothey are.”
“No! I mean—fuck! I’m not fuckin’ deaf, am I?! I heard it on the news like everybody else!” He began wasting what precious little energy he had left on thrashing against his restraints. “We’re at war with Blanco,” he growled. “You think I give a shit about a random woman and some kid—or this Shay guy? That’s not my goddamn territory.”
Bullshit. They weren’t organized enough—more than that, they didn’t have enough manpower on Carillo’s side to have responsibilities nobody else knew about. Based on Willow’s research, Ramirez’s research, and our work, we knew Carillo had, at most, twenty to thirty guys left in California who were alive and loyal to him. Most of them were sicarios, hustlers, and other low-men who’d been promised a nicer rank or money—or both—if they sold their loyalty to Carillo.
River chewed and swallowed what was in his mouth before he tilted his head at me. “I don’t know about you, but the thought of us buying this horseshit is offensive to me.”
I nodded and stood up. On my way to the back of Luiz’s chair, I finished my sandwich and brushed the breadcrumbs off my chest.
“You don’t wanna shoot him?” Riv asked casually.
