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“Some lowlife from a drug gang in Nashville. I already sent a couple of prospects out to grab him.”
“You didn’t think to run that by me first?” I was shocked that Deviant went around me and sent someone else to do my job. Dahlia was mine, which meant it was my right to track down the person who hurt her and make him suffer.
“He isn’t the one you want to hunt, Prez. It’s the man who paid for the materials and transferred five grand into the lackey’s bank account who you’re really gonna want to take down.”
I had to admit, he’d made the right call. I couldn’t go after both culprits, and he knew I’d want the mastermind. “Who?”
“Cordell DeLuca.”
My jaw clenched so hard that my teeth ground together. I inhaled slowly, trying to hold myself together. I was known for being calm and cool under pressure, rarely lost my temper, and could be relied on for being rational. But when it came to my woman, all bets were off. The need to wrap my hands around Cordell’s throat and watch the life drain from his eyes, was the only thing keeping me from losing my shit right that moment. I needed to keep my head in the game so I could hunt that asshole down.
And before I did, there was a call I needed to make.
I gave Deviant instructions on what to do next, then walked over to check on Dahlia. She wasn’t moving, and for a second, fear clogged my throat.
“The meds will knock her out until tomorrow,” Blade informed me when he saw my panicked expression.
Meds. Right. She wasn’t unconscious again, just sleeping. Fuck. I needed to handle this shit before I did something stupid.
“I’ll come by again in the morning.”
I nodded and walked him to the door but stopped him before he left. “I’m riding out tonight. Going after the motherfucker who hurt Dahlia. Make sure someone takes over for you when I get back. Gonna need you to keep the asshole alive so I can make him pay…a lot.”
Blade lifted his chin in acknowledgment. He didn’t ask if I wanted him to come with me because he knew I’d want him here in case there was a complication with Dahlia’s injuries.
After he left, I paced the living room as I put in a call to New York.
“DeLuca,” Nic answered curtly.
“I need a favor,” I said in lieu of a greeting.
“Most people start a phone call with hello, Kye,” he replied dryly.
“Not when they are contemplating cold-blooded murder.”
Nic was silent for a moment, then I heard rustling and the snick of a door closing.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m calling for your help to find someone. And because we’ve been friends for so long and I respect you, I’m asking you to let me handle the situation rather than handing it over to you.”
“Why would you need my permission?”
“Because I’m gonna kill someone in your family.”
Nic sighed. “Cordell?”
“Who else?” I snarled.
“I told Maverick I would handle it. And I am. I located him this morning—”
“He almost killed my woman, Nic,” I uttered in a ragged tone. Then I gave him a summary of what had happened with the bomb.
The Mafia boss went silent again. When he eventually spoke, his tone was lethal and hard as steel. “Women and children are off-limits. Cordell is no longer family. Handle him as you see fit.”
“You said you knew where he is?”
“I’ll do you one better. Stay by the phone. Next time I call, a package will be awaiting pick up somewhere near you.”
