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I explain everything.
I tell Wesley about my family's plan to break into the warehouse.
I confess that we’re a Mafia family who controls New York City with an iron fist and that the Diavolos are our enemies.
I tell him about Arlo's tainted medication and the fact that we traced the pills to this warehouse.
Wesley can barely believe his ears. "You're in theMafia?"
I pull out my Glock. "Why do you think I always have a gun on me?" I grit my teeth. "My family's one of the most powerful in New York City. I need to pack heat in case one of my enemies attacks me."
"Let me get this straight." Wesley stares into my eyes. "You were feuding with the Diavolo family before you learned about Arlo's medication.”
“Yes.”
“When you did, you planned to infiltrate their warehouse to get to the bottom of it.”
“Yes.”
“A while ago, you interrogated a man who informed you that the Diavolos kept boys in their basement. Your assistant started to keep watch over the warehouse that very night. That's when he saw me in the alley with the dead body early the next morning—who he recognized as the man who gave Constantine false insider trading information—and called you right away. You were playing in the Little Bunny Club all night long which is close by which is how you got there so fast."
"Exactly."
Wesley takes a moment to process this. He brings his fingers to his temples.
He turns to me. "May I see a picture of the man you interrogated who told you about the boys?"
"That's a great idea." I pull out my encrypted messaging app and select the photo my assistant sent me. "Here he is. Wilbertson. Tell me if you recognize him because he's still alive. We’re keeping him in the basement of the Little Bunny Club."
Wesley nods when he sees the picture. "Wilbertson came to the basement all the time."
I blow out a breath and force myself to stay calm. My father's training he instilled in me keeps my nerves in check.
"You know him?" I grit my teeth.
"Yes." Wesley's eyes lock on mine. "He liked to have sex with the turtle boy. Every week."
"It's okay, baby boy." I stare dead into Wesley's eyes. "I've got you now. Give Daddy a few more weeks to map out a plan, angel. Forget about this little discussion until then. My family will keep you safe."
20
UNNAMED BOY
One week later
"Run, girl."
Cocking my arm back, I toss the pink tennis ball as far as I can. It bounces on the grass, then slides behind an oak tree. Pickles rushes behind the trunk and paws the ground, letting out the most morose whines I've ever heard.
Good Lord. This dog is a bigger drama queen than me.
Arlo turns to face me. "Does she need help finding the ball?"
I palm my forehead. "No." Leaving him in the dust, I walk over to the tree. "She needs attention, that's all. Lots andlotsof attention."
Rusty crosses his arms over his chest. "She's been having a lot of trouble finding balls today. She keeps barking."
"Yeah." When I reach Pickles, I put my hands on my hips. "That's the general idea. She can't handle not having our complete attention for over five seconds."
