Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I was tap dancing through a minefield.
“How’s she doing?” Angus walked into my office and dropped onto the couch across from me, dark circles under his eyes from our late night on the river.
“About as well as you could expect. Finding out that the mother you thought was dead is actually in the hands of a fucking psychopath, who takes every opportunity to torture her, doesn’t sit so well.” I flexed my fists and wished for a simpler time when I could solve all my problems with a right hook and some well-placed body shots. Those days were gone. I was over here playing chess when I was just a hood rat who’d only been marginally good at checkers. “Tell me something, Angus.”
“Sure.”
“Does your dad ever get tired of this shit? Does he ever tell you that being the boss is a huge pain in the ass? I guess what I’m trying to ask is, does your dad keep it real? Because, I’m here to tell you, being boss comes with lots of bells and whistles and some really cool shit, but it also comes with the sort of responsibility that keeps you awake at night.”
Angus crossed his ankle over his knee. “My dad started out as a low-level enforcer back in the day. He would go to Irish businesses that didn’t pay the protection money and break shit, break bones, and wreck places. Just your general, run-of-the-mill bruiser.”
I nodded. “Sounds familiar.” And fun.
“But when he talks about those days, that’s when he’s the happiest. Being boss isn’t something that he went looking for. He’s like you—street smart, tough, a consummate wise guy. An opportunity arose, and he took it. He wasn’t groomed to be the next boss. The thing is, though, since he’s been in charge, our organization has been better run and more well respected. So there’s something to be said for starting at the bottom and clawing your way to the top.” He shrugged and met my gaze. “This will probably sound stupid to a guy like you, but it makes me wish that I had a chance to do the same. He sent me off to school and made sure I didn’t have to fight for everything the way he did. But sometimes I think maybe I would have been better prepared for this life if I’d been forced to do it the hard way.”
As much as I hated to admit it, he was a smart kid.
“Look, if you want to get your ass beat and earn some scars, I’m more than happy to take you out back and wail on you.” I held up my hand to stop his protest. “Seriously, I will stomp a mudhole in your ass free of charge. Have you seen the movie The Goonies?”
A grin crept across his face. “You’re a dick. You know that?”
“Seriously. When I’m done with you, you’ll look like that guy with the face. What’s his name? Sloth? You know the one. Got one eye toward heaven, one eye staring at a candy bar, teeth all out to here and an ear that can hear the ocean from Kansas.”
He laughed, and I struggled to keep a straight face.
“Then you’ll be a proper made man. Nobody’ll fuck with you.” I chuckled and rubbed my face. It felt good just to laugh and not think about all the shit bearing down on me.
Peter popped his head in the door. “The fuck is going on in here?”
“Nothing. Just schooling young Angus here on the importance of the truffle shuffle.”
“I’ve got some news.” Peter walked in. His jaw was covered in thick shadow, his clothes rumpled, and his hair in need of a comb. I supposed we were all tired and beat up, but we couldn’t let off the gas. The Russians wouldn’t.
Peter shot Angus a dark look.
“I can go.” Angus began to rise from his seat.
I waved him back down. “Stay. You went with us last night to kick some Russian ass, so you’re good with me as far as I’m concerned.”
Peter gaped but didn’t question it. “It’s about the rat.”
“Sit down and spill.” I leaned forward, my elbows on the desk. Bloodlust began to rise in my veins as I thought about all the horrible things I would do when I found the traitor.
“Don’t get too excited. I don’t have a name. But I finally managed to get in contact with my Russian informant from Dmitri’s operation. He verified what we heard about the woman Dmitri keeps captive.”
“Is it my mother?” Sabrina, pale and small, stepped into the doorway.
I rose and led her over to my chair, positioning her in my lap. Her skin was cool to the touch, and I rubbed her arms to infuse some warmth.
“I can’t say for sure, but she certainly fits what we know about your mother.”