Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I give the binoculars back and rip out my phone. “It’s him.”
“Fuck, are you sure?” Then he’s looking and a laugh rips from his chest. “Holy shit, it’s really him. Holy shit! And his girlfriend is really fucking hot. Look at the tits on that one. I don’t blame him for taking this risk.”
“Dante?” He answers on the second ring. “We got him. Bring everyone. Full squad. Come fast.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Absolutely positive. Hurry up. We cover every exit. The second he tries to leave, we hit him. Shoot to kill. No hesitation.”
“Understood. Be there in ten.”
I hang up. “Lynch better fuck his girl nice and long. Dante’s on the way.”
“Good god. I really didn’t think this would work.” Carlo’s laugh is hysterical as he checks his gun to make sure it’s loaded. “Can I be the one that kills him?”
“I don’t give a shit, as long as he’s dead.” I go over my own weapon. “You ready? We’ll stake out the lobby while we wait.”
“Seriously, bro, Lynch is gonna be in there a while. His girl is very fucking fine. He’ll want to take his time.”
“Or she’s so fine he blows instantly.”
“Then he’ll practice his oral. She’s worth it.”
I elbow his ribs. “Quit getting hard over the enemy’s girlfriend. She might be dead too.”
He sighs. “Can we please spare her?”
“Shut up. That slurry’s ruining your brain.” I get out of the car and slam the door. I cross the street and stride through the parking lot.
Carlo catches up. “Bro, you’re not wrong. But imagine if we drank the slurry straight from the teat?”
“There’s no fucking chicken nugget slurry teat! What the hell is the matter with you!”
“It’s like that cake frosting pipe shit. You hold it up and squeeze it right from the source.”
“You’re fucking disgusting.”
The lobby’s quiet. Finnian’s nowhere nearby. The front desk girl gives us a curious look but doesn’t seem surprised when we go sit at the hotel bar. The young guy serving drinks brings over beers when we ask for them and I sit facing out, pretending to watch a TV on the right, while Carlo babbles about life extension science and the healing properties of fried foods.
I’m on edge. This is about more than ending the war to me, although that’s big enough. If we can take Finnian down, I’ll be able to bring Molly out of hiding. I can introduce her to the family, and yeah, Renzo will be livid, but at least she won’t be a liability anymore. I need this so fucking bad, because it kills me not being able to bring her around. Despite how insane Carlo can be sometimes, I want him to meet Molly. I want Gian and Renzo to meet her too, and Allegra and Maddy. Even Mom, when she’s having the rare halfway decent day, though those are few and far between.
“Uh, bro, what the fuck?” Carlo’s staring at someone that just walked in. I was too busy fantasizing about Molly and didn’t notice him.
“What?” But I see it and my toes go numb.
“That’s the fucking guy.” Carlo grabs my arm. “The one that escaped. Holy fucking fuck. That’s him.”
And he’s right. I hate Carlo and his really good memory, but he’s absolutely right.
Standing in the middle of the lobby, looking very uncomfortable, is Molly’s cousin.
Chapter 27
Saul
“I’ll handle him.” I’m already getting to my feet, head racing, but Carlo’s up too.
“No way. We do this together. That little fucker’s here to meet with Finn and we’re going to use him. Fuck Dante, we’re getting the glory.”
“Carlo—”
But it’s too late. He’s already striding across the room.
Barry looks better than the last time I saw him. His clothes are clean and new and his face is mostly healed. But when he spots Carlo, much too late to do anything about it, all the blood drains from his expression.
The stupid fucker knew. The dumb, moronic, absolutely idiotic, dumbass fucker knew that we would probably show up, and he didn’t warn his boss. Instead, he went about his business like usual because—what, he thought I might forget?
“Oh, god,” he groans but Carlo’s already grabbing him by the neck and shoving something against his side. My brother’s good at this move: he hides the gun with his body, but keeps his firmly jammed to Barry’s ribs. “Oh, fuck, what are you doing here?”
“You stupid shit,” he hisses and steers the Irish kid toward the elevators. “You dumb little cocksucker. You got away. You almost made it.”
I catch Barry’s eye. He looks terrified, showing every inch of the whites around his pupils. I give him a tight shake of my head and I hope he understands that means he’d better not say a fucking word about what happened that night.
“They found me,” he groans, still staring at me. “I logged into my email and used my phone, and they came to get me. What was I supposed to do?”