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“I need you to use this phone to call my uncle and tell him you have his nephew. Say you'll deliver him outside the club but he must come outside alone.”
“Even if he agrees, you know his men won't be far.” Gunner drives faster, running through a yellow light.
“That's why you will make sure they are,” I say, sitting up straighter in my seat.
“How did I end up being the one taking the orders?” Gunner asks, the muscle twitching in his cheek.
“You owe me for saving your ass, remember?”
“So does that mean you should be taking orders from Everett, then?”
I grit my teeth, tugging on my seat belt. “Make the fucking call.”
“Alright, alright. So damn impatient. Lucky for you, I have men watching all three clubs your father owns from the inside, blending in with the other customers, after what happened to your mom.” Once he's done sending a text message from the screen of his car, he takes the phone from my hands and dials my uncle's number, placing the call on speakerphone.
“Hola?”
“I have the boy.”
Shifting comes from the other end. “What boy?”
“You know who,” Gunner says.
“Who is this?” Rudy asks, his tone unreadable.
“The man you hired to go to the hotel today.”
“I have no idea what you're referring to. You have the wrong number.”
Gunner sighs, turning onto the street the club’s on. “I don't think I do, and if you want him, I'll be in the back of Club Red with the delivery in ten minutes. My only request is that you come out alone.”
My uncle huffs. “You're insane. Don't call here again.”
The line goes dead and Gunner tosses me the phone. “You think he'll be out there?”
I wipe the phone clean before throwing it outside the window, into the busy road. “I do. He won't admit to anything over the phone. The fact that he stayed on the line with you as long as he did tells me everything I need to know.”
Gunner nods, slowing down the car as he approaches the club. “Two guns are in the glove box, along with your favorite knife.”
“How? I gave it back to him.”
He hits the glove box open. “Your other favorite. You might need it if you plan to kill the man quietly.”
I reach for the blade I was gifted by my uncle for my twelfth birthday before he showed me how to use it on my enemies. “I won't be killing him there. I want him to confess first, and I have a feeling he won't make it easy.”
He pulls into the parking lot, driving to the back of the building. “Men like him never do. I'll get out alone. There's a black hood on the floor. Make sure you have it on when I open the door and when I walk back toward the car. Also keep your hands behind your back.”
I nod, placing the hood over my head, and I do everything he says. The car comes to a stop and we wait by the back door.
“He's here. He's not alone either.” Gunner grunts. “I didn't think he would be but I at least thought he'd keep all his goons out of sight.”
I tuck the knife under my sleeve, pricking my finger on the tip, breathing easier through the small amount of pain. “That means there are more.”
“Not for long.” Gunner closes his jacket and exits the car. I take the hood off as soon as the door closes. They won’t be able to see me through the tinted windows.
I hate not being able to hear them talk. Their body language isn't much to go on. My uncle stands still; his men stand on both sides of him, remaining guarded while Gunner's back is facing me, his hands moving in the air as he speaks. He nods a few times and glances back at the car. Slowly moving his feet, he walks toward the passenger side, and I slide the hood back on before he opens the door. “Come on, boy, time to go home.”
He drags me out, holding me by my arms. “See, just like I said, he's right here.”
