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Max gives a nod, and only moments later the guy stalks off, leaving Honeybee looking even more distraught than before. We move quickly, following him as inconspicuously as possible. He heads toward the hospital’s multi-story parking lot, and we follow suit.
“Damn it,” I curse under my breath as we wind through the maze of cars, trying to keep up with him. People are everywhere, coming and going as visiting hours have just started. It’s a mess of activity that makes it difficult for us to stay on his tail.
And then we aren’t on his tail anymore. The guy’s vanished, my cool along with him. “We should’ve grabbed him while he was with Honeybee,” I snap at Max.
“We’ve already got a lead on him, and that’s Honeybee,” Max points out. “Let’s talk to her, ask who he was.”
“Fine,” I grumble, though I hate the idea of letting him slip through our fingers like this.
We head back to Honeybee, finding her smoking a cigarette around the side of the hospital. She quit when she joined the crew—Pony’s attempts to tempt her notwithstanding—but I can’t blame her for taking it up again now. Hell,I’mthinking about taking it up just to relieve the stress, though I get the feeling Max would disapprove.
And as far as stress relief and Max go…
I stamp out that thought before it goes anywhere.
Honeybee is jumpy as we approach, clearly still spooked by whatever just happened. I feel a surge of protectiveness toward her. She’s one of our own, and nobody messes with my crew without consequences.
“Hey, Bee,” I say as we approach her. She gives me a quick hug. “Who was that guy bothering you?”
Honeybee’s eyes widen, almost in panic. “Oh, just some creep.” She takes a deep drag from her cigarette. “I told him to get lost.”
“Sure you’re okay?”
“I can take care of myself.” Her voice is cool. “I need to get back to Nico.” She stubs out her cigarette on the wall and flicks it away. “Are you coming?” She throws it over her shoulder as she walks, without looking back at us.
Max and I exchange a glance, but follow.
* * *
I spend some time alone with Nico, but Tank—who’s mad again at seeing me—refuses to let me hang around long with Giddy. Still, the fact that both Nico and Giddy are recovering well lifts some weight off my shoulders. But there’s work to be done, so when Max and I have returned to the car, I don’t start the engine right away. I want to talk things through.
“Alright,” I say, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “These PacSyn bastards. They’ve got some territory down near the Port that’s easier to walk into than some of their other haunts.”
Max nods, his eyes scanning the outside the car, always vigilant. “Agreed, that’s our best shot. But let’s not forget that one of the Bernardi factions also holds territory down there—at the moment. I don’t want to accidentally inflame things between the Castellanis and AJ Bernardi.”
“Speaking of which,” I say, curiosity getting the better of me, “what’s going on between the Castellanis and the Bernardis?”
“Going on?”
“Leo defects to your bunch—old Aldo gets whacked—now there’s two factions of ’em? And I hear that Julian Castellani and the Lion want AJ dead?”
“They do,” Max answers grimly.
“So why isn’t he?”
“Let’s stay focused on the task at hand.”
I can tell he won’t divulge any more information. Part of me is frustrated by that. But the other part sees it as a sign of Max Pedretti’s loyalty and honor, and I respect him all the more for it, so I change the subject. “So how do we find ourselves a few talkative PacSynners down at the docks?”
“We wait until the sun’s down,” Max says, “and then we go fishing. But in the meantime…”
My heart leaps hopefully, echoed by the content of my pants. “In the meantime?”
Max yawns. “I could use a nap. I think I’m too old these days to pull all-nighters like we did.”
* * *
The Port is a maze of warehouses and shipping containers, all grimy and dilapidated in the area we’re moving through. Graffiti tags every surface, a riot of color amid the rust and rot. The night air stinks of diesel and fish, heavy and rank.
