Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“I’ll come with you.”
Man, he’s one scary-looking dude. I know Carlo is in the same field of work, but, somehow, Carlo has never lost his humanity. His easy warmth. I’m sure Carlo’s good at his job, or else Mr. DiMarco wouldn’t have kept him on for so long. But Carlo must be better at compartmentalizing the bad stuff than this dude, because this guy looks fucking deadly, even when he’s smiling, as he is now.
To our dismay, he strides to Auggie’s car and walks around to the passenger side, telegraphing he’s intending to drive to the bank with us . . . in the same car.
“Can we maybe call Carlo and confirm this is what he wants us to do?” I ask, suddenly feeling unsure. Talking to a paid killer while standing on a public street feels less iffy than voluntarily getting into a car with one.
“He’s got an emergency. No calls.” He raps on the passenger-side window. “Door’s locked.”
Auggie shifts his weight. “We’re gonna be heading somewhere after the bank, so you should probably drive separately.”
“That’s not possible. Once we have the money, I’ll be out of your hair—off to the airport to catch a flight to JFK, so I can ‘find’ the money there. But until then, I can’t take any chances with you two. For all I know, you’re gonna get skittish and do something stupid like try to lose me on your way to the bank—and I can’t let that happen. I’m in this thing up to my eyeballs now, too, thanks to my side deal with Carlo. So, I’m gonna make sure this transfer goes off without a hitch.” He shoves his shirt aside, revealing a gun in his waistband. “I have no intention of using this on either of you, okay? I’m here to help you. But I also want to make it clear I don’t have time to negotiate or fuck around. I’ve got my orders from Carlo and a plane to catch. So, let’s move it.”
On wobbly legs, Auggie and I get into his car, with me in the backseat, Auggie driving, and our new friend in the passenger seat.
The short drive to the bank is silent and tense. But ten minutes later, we arrive without incident—with our limbs and organs pristine and intact.
All three of us pile out of the car, but as Auggie and I head toward the bank, our new friend stays behind, leans his ass against Auggie’s SUV, and says, “I’ll wait out here.”
About twenty minutes later, Auggie and I come out of the bank with the cash in a bag, our hearts thundering. When the guy sees us walking toward him, he straightens up. And when we reach him, he says, “You got it all?”
“Yep,” Auggie says on an exhale. “Sixty big ones. All cash. It’s all there.”
“Sixty?” the guy says, his eyebrows jerking up. “What about the interest?”
“Interest?” Auggie shouts, as I simultaneously shriek, “Carlo never said anything about interest.”
The guy looks at me. “Sure, he did.”
“No, he didn’t,” I insist, and Auggie backs me up. “Carlo said we had to repay the sixty grand and that’s it.”
“No, Carlo told you about the interest,” the guy grits out, his voice turning steely. “If not, then we’ve got a problem, because that’s standard procedure. Anyone who steals from the big guy, no matter who they are or who they might have fucked, owes interest on money they took, if we’re so kind as to look the other way and let it slide. No fucking exceptions—for anyone.”
“Okay, but . . .” Auggie says. “This isn’t really a standard deal, right? Carlo explained that to you, right? So—”
“No exceptions,” he barks. “If you’re telling me that Carlo brokered a special deal with you—one that nobody else ever gets because you’re his ex-girlfriend, then I’m not sure I can trust him to keep his side deal with me, to be honest. If that’s the case, then I think I’d better take this information straight to the big boss and let him know—”
“No! Don’t do that!” I shout, as Auggie says something similar. “We must have forgotten about the interest. It slipped our minds because we’re not used to this sort of thing. We’re amateurs, you know?” I feel like I’m on the cusp of hyperventilating or passing out, but somehow, I manage to add, “Of course, Carlo didn’t give me a special deal. But can we maybe pay the interest in a week or two because we don’t currently have anything more than that, so we’ll need some time to get more.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Can I ask what’s probably a stupid question?” Auggie asks. “If the money is going to be ‘found’ at JFK, then how could it possibly earn interest?”
The man’s dark eyes harden to steel. “It’s two different things. We’ve got a separate slush fund. That’s where the interest will go. One thing doesn’t have anything to do with the other. The simple fact is nobody is allowed to take money from our boss without paying interest on it. Ever. No exceptions. But hey, if you don’t have the money, that’s fine. I’ll call the big guy now and let him know he should ask Carlo about this.”