Page 56 of Vendetta

“Wow,” Amber says, although I'm sure the story means nothing to her.

“Holy shit,” Colin finally manages. “And all this time... you and the Moore girl? Holy shit.”

“Leighton,” I correct him, the sound of her last name making me feel sick. I can't believe I'm fucking doing this.

For so long I've held onto this one tiny shred, the justice I'll get for my parents and brother one day when I see them all on their knees. Instead, I'm failing them by saving the daughter of the man who killed them and running away with her. Betraying my own name for the sake of love.

What kind of person does that make me?

“A person in love,” Amber says, her face taking on a dreamy look. I must have said that out loud, and for fuck's sake, I am so not in the mood for girly dreamy sighs.

“Are you in or not?” I ask Colin.

He nods without giving it a thought and Amber looks at him, frowning. It's clear she cares about him and he's not just a client. What is she doing here if he loves her? Why doesn't he take her away from this godforsaken life when they can freely choose where to be and what to do?

“You don't even know what the plan is,” she tells him, her voice more authoritative than worried. He shrugs, and she shakes her head at him, clearly annoyed. “Will he be safe?” she asks me, still looking at him.

“All he has to do is take my car,” I tell her honestly. “Just drop it off at a certain location and leave it there. When he does, he needs to call me and let me know. And that's all.”

“And why?” she asks.

“Because tonight, Leighton Moore and Devon Andre are going to die.”

The look she gives Colin is doubtful. “You think you can pull that off?” she asks me, still looking at him.

“I’ll have to.”

A black sedan pulls into the warehouse, grabbing my attention. I exit the office and approach the car as the door opens and a blond, broad-shouldered man steps out. He pulls off his shades, revealing his brown eyes, and puts them in his shirt pocket.

“Justin,” I say in greeting.

“Devon.”

“How's Martha and the babies?” I ask him. He shifts on his feet nervously, looking around to see if we're alone. After a few moments, he approaches, slapping me on the back and pulling me in for a manly hug. I went to the same school as Justin, who is now a detective, my police contact. He's a few years older than me, but we used to be good friends. Back in high school, he was one of the few real friends I had:normalkids stayed away from me because their parents know who I was.

No one in my family knows we still keep in contact, if you can even call it that. I would never call him in, if I had a choice. He has a wife and two kids on the way, and I would never jeopardize his job or their lives.

“Hormonal,” is his short answer, but he laughs. She’s due any day now. “It’s been a while, Andre. How’s the business?”

I laugh nervously, though I was never afraid of Justin busting my ass. It’s just my natural instinct; he’s still a cop and I’m a criminal. I motion for him to follow me to the back office. He sits in the chair while I open the safe and pull out the bag I filled earlier from it. I sit opposite him, emptying the contents of the bag on the large table in front of us and look at him expectantly.

It’s a hundred grand in Benjamins.

He gives me a dubious look. “So, we’re talking business?”

“Unfortunately," I say.

“What’s going on?”

I run my hand through my hair, wondering if I should just spill the whole story to him as well, but decide against it. “I need to disappear. There’s?—”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” he cuts me off.

I frown. “Heard what?” If anyone knew about Leighton being at our house, she’d be gone already, safe home. And I know they have police contacts as well, it’s a no-brainer. If Justin knows, their people know it as well.

“Gino Fermi?” he says, referring to one of the bosses. When I shake my head because I have no idea what he’s talking about, he continues, “Heard the kid—” he gestures with his hand, snapping his fingers, “What’s his name?”

“Angelo,” I help him.

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