Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 727(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
"Hello?"
"Hello, Junior. Do you remember me?"
Neil's heart lurched to a sick halt. It wasn't his father or Riko, but he would know this voice anywhere. It was Lola Malcolm, one of his father's closest people and one of the two who'd tried teaching Neil how to wield a knife so many years ago. She'd been in and out of their house so many times Neil had thought for a while she lived there with them. She posed as Nathan's personal assistant, but her job was to get rid of the bodies Nathan's circle created. She was worth her weight in gold. Not a single one had ever turned up again.
Neil tilted the phone away from his ear and took a long, slow breath. It didn't help. His lungs were full of shards of ice, chilling him to the bone and cutting him up from the inside out. It was an age before Neil found his voice again and he couldn't keep a thick edge from it.
"I didn't give you this number, Lola."
"So you do remember me," she said. "Now you see, that's bad, because if you remember me, you remember who you are and where your place is."
"I made my own place."
"You don't have that right." She gave him a beat to respond, but Neil had nothing. "Are you listening? It is time to go. If you make this difficult for us, you will regret it for the rest of your very short life. Do you understand?"
Neil wanted to be sick. Lola trashed bodies; she didn't often make them. That was what the rest of Nathan's people were for. Neil remembered faces better than he remembered names, but he could guess who Lola had brought with her. Lola's business partner of choice was her brother Romero, and where Romero went Jackson was never far behind. The three were Nathan's inner circle. They answered only to Nathan's right-hand man DiMaccio and Nathan himself.
Neil could have tried outrunning one of them. He wouldn't make it past three. For a moment he was so scared he couldn't breathe, but fast on the heels of fright was an irrational and wild anger. He was halfway to winning Andrew's trust, a weekend from his first vacation, and one month from semifinals. There were only four matches left in championships. Neil was so close to everything he wanted and Lola was here to steal it away.
"Put a hand on me and you'll regret it," Neil said.
"Oh, what's this?" Lola said, entertained. "Has the baby finally inherited a spine? Your father will be glad to hear it."
"My—" Neil choked on it. "He is in Seattle. You'll never get me that far."
"He is in Baltimore," she corrected him. "His parole hearing was on your birthday. They had to notify his family when his case came up. You must have missed the memo, being dead and all, so I'll fill you in. They made a final decision last week, and the feds swung it so he'd get released back to Maryland this morning. They're hoping being back in familiar territory will make him careless." Neil could hear the savage smile in her words. "Don't worry, kid. They'll never know you stopped by. I'll make sure of it."
Neil blinked and saw that zero on his eyelids. He was out of time. For a moment Neil felt the weight of Andrew's mouth against his. He dug his fingers into his lower lip and tried to breathe around them.
"You don't honestly think you can take me away from here," Neil said. "My team will know I'm missing and they won't get back on the road without me."
"They don't have a choice. We can't kill them," Lola said, "but we can hurt them. You'll see."
"No," Neil said, but Lola hung up. Neil called her back, but it went straight to voicemail. She'd cut her phone off already. Neil swore and snapped his phone shut with unsteady fingers. He gave his hands a vicious shake like he could knock the trembling out of them, but those quivers were bone-deep. His mind raced a thousand miles an hour, grabbing at every exit strategy and dismissing every single one that ended with him running.
He'd promised Andrew he'd hold his ground here, but he couldn't do that if it meant catching his teammates in the crossfire. The only way to save his team was to do the last thing Nathan's people expected of him. He'd run and lied and hid all his life. Telling the truth to save himself, to save his team, was completely out of character. Neil had wanted to do it when the season was over, but he couldn't afford to wait any longer. The Foxes could sit tight here until the feds showed up to take them all into protective custody.
Neil hurried out of the changing room and down the hall. A security officer stood at the end of the hall, looking in on the Foxes where they were celebrating in the lounge. Neil made it halfway there before the man realized someone else was coming. Neil froze when the officer looked his way and Neil got a good look at his face. Jackson Plank was in the locker room with his team. A second later Romero Malcolm stepped into view in a similar getup. Retreating from them was instinctive, but Neil grabbed at the wall to stop himself before he got far.
Romero let his hand rest casually on the gun hooked to his belt. Neil flinched and gave a fierce shake of his head. Romero turned away from him to face the Foxes. Neil had no problems interpreting that warning and he put his hands out in a desperate plea to stand down. Jackson flicked Neil only a cursory glance before returning his attention to the oblivious team.
"If we're all accounted for, we should head out," Jackson said.
"We're still waiting for Neil," Nicky said, and Jackson gestured down the hall in Neil's direction. Neil swallowed against the stone in his throat and tried to school his expression into something calm. He continued down the hall on feet that wanted to carry him anywhere but here. Nicky jumped to his feet when Neil stepped into the den, grinning ear to ear. "Hey, Neil! We were starting to think you'd drowned in there."