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As Honeybee sniffles and nods, I catch Max’s eye again, and he gives a little shake of the head. I know what he’s thinking. She’s not the one we’re looking for. But if we believe Honeybee, that means the mole is someone else.
The suspects are dwindling.
“Come on.” I pull Honeybee by the hand along with me. “Let’s get you back to Nico, eh?”
As we leave the coffee shop, I glance around, and Max does, too. We’re looking for any sign of the man who threatened Honeybee. But he’s long gone.
“We believe her?” I ask Max, once we’ve deposited Honeybee back with a still pale but very happy to see her Nico.
“I mean, yeah, I do,” Max says with a shrug. “You?”
“Yeah. I’ll make a few calls, make sure that fucknut’s out of state by tonight.”
“You know, I’m sure Jack would like to feel useful again. He’d be happy to send a few of his old crew out there to take care of things.”
I hesitate. Castellanis sweeping up Esposito messes? That’s my first instinct, but it’s not fair. I think about Anna-Vittoria telling me to stay out of trouble for the time being, and even though I know she’d be more than happy to send some heat out to protect Nico’s girl…well, maybe it’d be quicker and quieter this way.
“Sure,” I say. “Make a call. Then let’s go around to see Giddy. If Tank’s there, I’d like to have a word with him, next.”
Tank hates me already for what happened at the bank. So now’s as good a time as any to poke the bear.
CHAPTER32
BRICKER
Maxand I walk down the sterile white hallways toward Giddy’s room in silence. Max keeps pace beside me, his face an expressionless mask. He’s focused, tactical, like we’re marching into battle instead of visiting an injured friend.
“How do I do this?” I mutter, half to myself.
But Max responds. “Go easy on him,” he offers. “On both of them. Tank’s on edge after what happened to Giddy, and you’re a convenient target.”
Frankly, I think I’m not just a convenient target, but anappropriatetarget. But I need to remind myself what Max keeps saying to me: Giddy knew the risks. We all did. This is the life we chose.
And that’s true, but it doesn’t change the fact that my crew, my family, is falling apart at the seams.
When we enter, Tank sits vigil at his brother’s bedside. Giddy is sleeping. Tank’s face is creased with worry as he watches his little brother’s chest rise and fall, but when he looks up and sees us, his expression hardens. I know that look—I’ve seen it aimed at enough enemies in our time together.
Never at me.
“Tank.” I give a nod of greeting and still get that cold stare-down in response.
“What do you want?”
“Just checking on Giddy. How’s he doing?”
“How do you think?”
I’m already aware this isn’t going to go well, but Max has my back. “Bricker didn’t pull the trigger, Tank.”
Tank’s laugh is brittle and mirthless. “Yeah? Well, he damn sure didn’t stop it, either.”
That cuts deep. We’re supposed to be brothers, brothers bound in blood oaths. But now he looks at me like I’m the enemy. I bite back a retort, though, since arguing won’t help. “Tank, we need to talk,” I try instead.
“What’s there to talk about?”
“I need to figure out what went wrong during the heist. So—”
“Are you trying to sayIhad something to do with it?”
