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“There are two men inside that house,” Israel answered.
Zander tensed, dread slithering down his spine. No.
“Care to guess the identity of those two men?” Israel lifted an eyebrow, watching Zander as if he were a bug under a microscope.
Zander didn’t have time to hide the fear that chilled his veins. Didn’t have time to school his features into something that didn’t broadcast his terror. “Derri.” He barked the name while holding Israel Storm’s gaze.
“I’m on it,” Derri replied, and his footsteps hurried away.
Zander didn’t look away from the man in front of him. How could he know about Vince and Scotty? “What do you know?” How?
Israel’s expression broke a little at that moment, showing something that almost resembled pity. “I know your men won’t find them when they go looking.”
Something inside Zander screamed then. Inside. On the outside, he maintained his composure—barely—and asked through gritted teeth, “Why?”
“Because I have them.”
Zander lunged at him then, hands around his neck. Israel didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but Reggie did. He pressed his gun to Zander’s head.
“Don’t you ever in your motherfucking life call yourself putting hands on him. Let him go before I end you right here, right now.” It was the calmest, softest, deadliest threat Zander had ever received and he probably would have taken note of it. But he didn’t.
Couldn’t. “You’re gonna have to shoot me,” he told Reggie with a growl. “Do what you gotta do because I’m not doing shit until I get answers. Where are they?” He stared up into the darkness that was Israel Storm’s eyes. “Tell me!” he roared, squeezing the other man’s neck.
“Release him,” Reggie ordered. “Now.”
“Like I said,” Israel said conversationally. “I have something—or maybe somethings?”—he stressed the “s” at the end—“you need. Now lower your hands, Kian, otherwise you will never see those two men again.”
Fuck him. Zander wanted to eat that motherfucker’s smug face. Chew him up and spit him out. Fuck him, because, with just a handful of words, Israel Storm rendered him impotent and useless. And he knew. He’d known the power he had, which was why he’d been able to walk into the casino with just one man at his side. He knew the size of the weapon he was carrying. And now Zander had to bargain with him in order to protect?—
He couldn’t fucking breathe. He lowered his shaking hands from Israel’s neck and took a step back. “Are they hurt?” It occurred to him that he was allowing his weakness to bleed all over Israel Storm’s butter-colored Timbs. He was exposing his fucking insides right then, but he didn’t care. “Tell me, are they?—”
“They aight.” Israel shrugged. “For now."
“Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you right now,” Zander lashed out. “You have the balls to fuck with a man’s heart, with his family? Do you know?—”
“I know.” Israel’s tone was grave when he said, “I know all about what love will—and won’t—make a man do.” He came in closer until they were chest to chest and he lowered his voice. “They’re your heart outside your chest. Your mistake was not keeping them close to you, where they belong. Your mistake was that altruistic bullshit, thinking about not getting them caught up in your life. That ship sailed the minute they crawled in here.” He touched a large palm to his own chest, covering his heart. “Your job was to keep them close, to protect them, and you failed.”
Zander gaped at him as Israel stepped back, standing side by side with Reggie. Just for the briefest of seconds, Zander forgot he wanted that man’s death more than he wanted to see the next sunrise. There’d been a gravity to his words, a familiarity, as if he knew what love was, as if he knew the terror and anguish spreading throughout Zander’s body with every inhale he took.
“I will kill you,” Zander told him. “Remember this moment, remember my face, remember my words. I will kill you.”
Israel grinned as Reggie stepped forward, getting in Zander’s face. “You can try,” Reggie said plainly. “But we all know that’s cap.”
“Boss.”
Zander spun around as Derri hurried into the room. He was pale, hair in disarray as if he’d been tunneling his fingers through it. “Our men are dead. The house is empty.”
Israel chuckled. “Get your boy caught up, Kian. Then send him to collect the package waiting for you in the trunk of my car outside.” When Zander turned to him, Israel lifted an eyebrow. “I assume you want to personally deal with the man who put a hit out on your”—he cleared his throat—“people?”
This motherfucker was on some next-level shit. Zander glared at Israel as he ordered, “Derri.”
“I’m sending some men now,” Derri told him.
“Cool. Cool.” Israel rubbed his hands together. “Last thing: You ever been to Brooklyn, Kian? Coney Island, specifically?”
25
Vince said they were in Brooklyn. As in New York.
