Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 115964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
I—“All of them?”
That was a lot of hits to plan, coordinate, and execute in three days.
Roman seemed to read my mind because he inclined his head toward the car. “If you need a fifth member to your unit, temporarily, Downer has volunteered to work with you.”
My eyes slid over to the head of security, a big man, and he was silently laughing to himself.
He was a dark-haired version of Cavers, but with attitude.
One Cavers was enough. My lips thinned. “Noted.”
“You’re okay with the change of plans?”
I nodded briskly. “You’re the boss.”
“Yes, but we won’t be taking on Estrada. Are your sister and mother well? Do you know?”
“I made inquiries. They seem fine.”
“That’s something then. Good, but Raize, our fight with Estrada will happen. I promise you that. And if you ever do want to come in full-time, that offer is always open. I know you’re loyal to those you respect. I have no intention of losing that respect from you.”
I wished for a moment that Ash was with me, that I could ask her if I could trust him, but she wasn’t because I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust anyone, or I hadn’t.
I trusted Ash.
And Gus, somewhat.
That was enough for me.
“Reach out if you need assistance.”
“I will.”
I usually waited for Roman to leave first. This time was different, felt different, and I left first.
He turned for his car, and I was gone.
35
Raize
I was almost forgetting which town I’d stashed my team in lately.
We’d had to move so many times, and we had to be low maintenance, small town, and hidden in the country. I knew everyone was used to nicer accommodations in the city, but for this shit, in this war, I wanted as low key as possible. And since Roman had made it clear I was different, since my unit ran our own rules and our own operations, I could do as I wanted.
Downer was right, I’d realized. I was used to being out in the field. It felt right to me.
It’s what I knew, the way I survived.
Going in? What would that look like?
I’d slap on a suit? Follow Roman around with a shoulder holster for my guns? Were there politics involved? I had no clue. Would I glare at his adversaries? Do the kill when he ordered?
Fuck.
That’s what I did.
I hadn’t enjoyed being a drug dealer for Carloni, but I was there on orders. I’d fulfilled my mission, situated myself in place where I was able to bring Roman into a move before Carloni. Estrada. Sucked that I’d been coerced to do it, but things were changing.
I needed to really think shit through.
There’d always been three Marakovs. Roman ran Russia. Maxim had been trying to move in on New York, but that wasn’t working. Igor ran Philadelphia. Igor and Maxim, both shit stains on humanity, the worst possible fucking people I knew. But the problem was taking care of all of them.
If I hit one, the others would beef up on security.
If I hit another, the rest would go into hiding, or they’d start traveling in convoys.
Roman had said three days. I knew the reasoning. The faster, the better—less time to give anyone time to figure out who was coming, but hell. I’d been hitting the buildings, where they kept their girls, where they moved the drugs. Every target was done a different way. No pattern. No habit. They couldn’t predict who was coming, why they were coming—but I hadn’t gone after the heads yet.
Bronski was small.
Carloni was medium.
Igor, Maxim, they were huge.
Plus Maxim’s men.
I’d do them all in one night. One day and a night?
I’d need help.
Once it was done, the landscape would change. I needed to be sure it worked in my favor, according to my wishes. And I needed to decide what those were.
When I’d worked for Marco, I’d been content with that. I could see my mom every now and then, and I was within the same circles for my sister. I never cared for more.
Didn’t want more.
I was good at my job.
I was loyal.
Marco should’ve jumped at keeping me. Instead he’d tried to eliminate me.
When I left, I hadn’t thought about future plans. Surviving and killing was what I knew.
Now, with Ash, it was time to think.
36
Ash
“I’m cooking tonight,” Jake announced.
Cavers had just pulled into a fast food joint, but at Jake’s proclamation, he pulled over, turned around, and glared. Jake was in the backseat. I was in front.
Along with our many location changes, we’d also changed vehicles too many times to count.
We were now in a Suburban, and I really thought it was Cavers’ dream vehicle. He didn’t let anyone drive unless Raize ordered him to.
“No,” he growled.
Cooking was also something he’d claimed, though none of us had particularly fought him on that. Cavers was a decent cook, and he did it healthy, though he also enjoyed his fast food stops. Tonight was supposed to be a fast-food night. Every Wednesday was, and even more so because Raize had to leave for some meeting. He’d said he’d be back late, and he’d only have his second phone on. The first was for normal things. The second was for when we were under attack and had to go to ground—that sort of thing.