Page 22 of Obey

Now, all I can think of is the betrayal.

I don’t know how I would have handled things in his position—but I do know I wouldn’t have left him alone for the pigs to ambush. I wouldn’t have left him to fend for himself after we’d vowed to always be there for each other.

Guess that’s just something he said spur of the moment, and I’d been the only one who meant it.

I sit, drinking my cold, stale coffee, until my phone vibrates.

It’s a call from Evan. I’m tempted to let it go unanswered, but he’s essentially my boss. I hit the “accept” button with a sigh.

“Where are you?” Evan asks, sounding disgruntled. “I’ve got you lined up for a shift with Cristiano.”

I glance at the time on my phone and groan. Fuck, I’d been sitting here for longer than I thought. I can’t just tell him that I’ve been wallowing in memories though.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I’ve been looking into this BS with the missing shipments. Got a little caught up in it. I’m actually meeting with a contact soon.”

“You couldn’t have texted me to let me know?” Evan gripes. “Fuck. I was hoping to have a day off, Knives, not to have to go play lapdog for Cristiano.”

He doesn’t mean it, though. He likes being needed.

“You’re lucky H has a shift today,” he says.

Because he has to be up his boyfriend’s ass twenty-four-seven—probably literally.

“Yeah, well.” I wait a few beats before I ask, “You really can’t convince Silvano that I’m better off doing my actual goddamn job?”

“I could convince him to buy a bridge in Benton City, N,” Evan informs me loftily, only to let out an exaggerated sigh. “Of course I could. But S specifically asked for you, and bridges are hard to come by these days.”

That’s essentially what I’d thought. After all these months working with Silvano’s organization—even guarding him a few times—I know what kind of man he is. He looks like a pushover, right until you actually try to go against him, and suddenly everything you know and love is in pieces around you.

I’ll avoid pissing him off.

That does mean I need to do this fucking job to the best of my abilities. I’ve already got Lily working one angle, but there are other avenues I can look into.

“Ok, thanks, Evan. I’ll be in tomorrow, probably.”

“Probably,” he repeats, disgruntled. “You’d better be. H is off work, and I have plans. Lots and lots of plans. Plans that don’t involve trailing behind Cristiano fucking Fiore while he whines about whatever he’s whining about these days. Probably you fucking up Club Alpha last night.”

Jesus fucking Christ, how does he already know about that?

I grunt and say, “Whatever,” before hanging up on him.

I’m going to hear him bitch about my attitude later, but I’m in too shitty of a mood to care.

Fucking Maddox.

After another cup of cold coffee, I scroll through my phone contacts until I end up on one that’s listed as a lightning bolt emoji.

You free? Can you meet in 30 minutes? I text.

I know I’m out of it when the ding of the answering text startles me. I send my contact an address, then force myself to get dressed properly.

No matter what’s going on with Maddox, I’m not going to disappoint the Cresci Family.

I, at least, am reliable.

I pull into the diner’s parking lot. A good chunk of the letters on the sign are missing, so all it says is Cum Diner. I can’t even guess what it used to say when the sign was new.

I spot a large Harley-Davidson parked close to the entrance, so I know my contact—my friend—is already there.

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