Page 89 of Enzo

“Robbie? I don’t know a fucking Robbie, I want that guy in your garage, Roman?” Vinnie said, and then that twisted grin broke across his face, blood caught on his teeth. He spat into the dust and laughed. “You don’t even know what you’ve got there. He’s sitting on fucking millions, man. More money than you’ll ever see.” He was bolder then, as if even tied to a chair he was in a position to negotiate. “I told Mateo—we could split it. Be smart about it.” My gaze flicked to Mateo who raised an eyebrow at me. “You think I wanna hurt this Roman kid? Nah, man. He’s gold for all of us.”

“And how do we get this money?” Mateo asked, and I stiffened. I’d brought Rio in here and put him in the way of guns, and now Mateo was trying to make a deal with Vinnie?

“Hand the kid over and it’s straight in our accounts boss,” he said, with utter confidence.

“How much?” Mateo asked, and I took a step toward him, but he subtly indicated I stay where I was with a shake of his hand.

“Five hundred k at least.”

“Thought the bounty on the kid was a million.”

Vinnie blinked up at Mateo. “Yeah, yeah, I was gonna take my cut, but fuck it, you can have it all. I was doing it for the SC boss.”

Mateo hummed thoughtfully. “You were? How can I trust you?”

He turned his attention to Rio, “Tell Mateo I’m okay, Rio. That he can trust me.”

“Fuck you,” was all Rio had to offer.

Mateo’s hands tightened on the chair; jaw clenched so hard I could hear it creak. Then he softened his tone, as if he had all the time in the world. “What was the plan, Vinnie? Once you got Roman?”

“An exchange, this guy wants him, and I get a cut—we get a cut. I wasn’t keeping any of it, not really.” Seemed to me as if Vinnie was getting his story jumbled up. “We was all gonna be rich as fuck.”

“So, you were gonna sell Robbie off,” I said, my voice dropping. “Leave him with the animals who nearly killed him and walk away.”

“I don’t give a shit what happened to him, it’s money baby, I was doing it for the SC.” He was posturing now, but there was a glimmer of fear in his eyes.

Mateo leaned down close, his voice a quiet threat “Don’t pretend you did anything out of loyalty to SC.”

Vinnie’s grin faltered.

“Who wants him?” I asked and moved so I was standing really close to the sniveling piece of shit who wanted to hurt Robbie.

“I tell you that, and you kill me,” he smiled, as if it was all a joke.

“You tell me, and I might let you live,” I lied.

Vinnie flinched. That toothy bravado was already slipping. “This guy called John Mitchell, it was a job put out, and I found the kid, didn’t I?” He craned his neck to find Mateo who’d moved back into the shadows. “And I came straight to you, Boss.”

“That’s not entirely true, is it, Vinnie?” Mateo said, “Word is that you offered a cut to a shit-ton of others as well. Amiright?”

He shook his head. “It was always you, Boss. I was working for the SC, I was gonna let you have the money. I wasn’t even gonna take a cut.” Vinnie cast a frightened glance between us and Mateo, then at Goons One and Two, who’d stepped out into the light as well. It was clear he was lying. “I can make a deal, right? Get my phone. You’ll see who wanted the kid… I don’t have nothing to hide, and then when I get out of here, I can be the best for you. A real soldier in your ranks.”

Mateo nodded at Goon One, who fetched over a sparkling new phone, pressed a button, and then held it to Vinnie’s face. It unlocked, and Goon One scrolled through whatever was on there, then passed the phone to Mateo. He read the screen, and his expression went from focused to furious in an instant.

“The Devils Drift!” he snapped and yanked at Vinnie’s long greasy hair. “You were offering a cut to those fuckers?”

“No! Boss! I was gonna double-cross them, yeah, I had it all worked out. The kid will get us millions and we get one up on them.”

The Drift. Biker gang, mostly. Loud, loyal, brutal. They stuck to the periphery back in the day—ran guns through the industrial zone, handled enforcement work no one else would touch. I’d crossed paths with a few inside. Hard-eyed men with no loyalty but to the patch on their backs. Getting involved with them meant all bets were off. They didn’t negotiate. They burned things to the ground and rode through the ashes. If they knew about Robbie, if they had any idea where to find him, then we were fucking gone, leaving LA now.

“This Mitchell, right, he’s got a line on all these kids,” Vinnie said, smarmy, as if he could persuade Mateo to let him go with this big deal he had. “I mean, it’s not really trafficking when he keeps the kids, yeah?” What kind of fucked- up logic was he trying to use to get out of this one? “But they’re big currency, Boss, fresh meat, and this one, this whore, Roman, he knows too much, and they want him back, and?—”

Mateo punched Vinnie square on the mouth. The sound was wet and sharp. Vinnie’s head snapped back, blood spraying the floor. Mateo followed with two more brutal punches, landing them with surgical precision. Vinnie reeled, his body sagging in the chair, eyelids fluttering as if he were slipping under.

“Fucking traffickers! Fucking Drift MC. You fucking brainless moron,” Mateo spat, knuckles dripping.

I didn’t breathe. The air in the room was heavy, thick with sweat, piss, and the iron tang of blood. My heart hammered, but my face stayed blank. I couldn’t afford to show what I was feeling—couldn’t let anyone see how hard I was gripping the edge of my restraint.

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