Page 56 of Taking Care of the Target

“So’s our informant.” Mancini smiled. “He’s been talking all about you, too. I’m sure we’ll find strike three, and even without it, you’re going to be put away for long enough to completely forget what it’s like to be with a woman.”

Nice touch, considering his fondness for the ladies. The lines in Dante’s forehead deepened. They were so close he could taste it.

“What’s it gonna be?” Jim leaned in, folding his forearms on the cool metal table. “But tick, tock. We got criminals to catch, informants to listen to.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s time for you to pick. You going to rat or rot?”

***

Vince tossed the paperbound bills on Big Al’s desk, physically ill as soon as it left his hands. For so much money, it didn’t look like much, just about four inches of crisp hundreds.

Hard come, easy go.

If it was just money, he’d get over it. But it put a huge dent in his chance of changing his life, of being something—someone—different.

“Bobby’s out,” he said. “He’s not selling for you anymore.”

Big Al handed the two stacks to the man behind him and the guy automatically thumbed through it. He had another goon flanking his other side, the thick-necked surly type. “I say when he’s out.”

“No,Isay. You don’t use him to sell, and you don’t sell to him.”

Bobby whipped his head toward Vince, panic creeping into his eyes. Wanting to be done and having your supplier and source of income taken away were two different things.

“I agreed to give him a chance to pay back his debt without retaliation, but I’m not losing him or his regulars.” Big Al smoothed a hand down his black silk tie, putting on a bored air. “He’s no longer under Carlo’s protection, in case you don’t remember. So he needs to get his ass back out there, move the product, and as long as he pays me on time—”

Vince dove across the desk, grabbed the fucking tie, and used it to yank the asshole forward as he drew his gun and jabbed the barrel under the fat man’s ribs. The unmistakable sound of guns being cocked registered, and Bobby swore. Vince wound the tie around his hand, tightening the makeshift noose as he dug the gun into Al’s flesh a little deeper. “Tell them to drop their weapons, nice and slow, and you put your hands on the desk where I can see them.”

Big Al turned three shades of red and clamped his lips.

Vince curled his finger around the trigger. “They might get me, but you’ll go first.”

“Drop them,” Big Al said, blowing air out of his nostrils. He put his meaty hands flat on the desk.

“Now, like I said. Bobby’s out. He’s undermyprotection. I’ll discuss it with my uncle, and make no mistake, he’ll be back under Carlo’s protection soon. So unless you want a war with us Jersey boys and your neighbors to the east, all you have to do is take your money and leave my brother alone.”

“You know how easy it’d be for me to grab the blonde from the club? One of my guys is watching her right now.”

Vince tilted the gun up and let the fury show through so Big Al would know he wasn’t bluffing about pulling the trigger. “Your heart would have to be beating to do it.”

One silent second passed, then two. By three the tension was so thick it smothered the air. “Fine,” Big Al said, his face so red it’d morphed into purple territory. “Take your brother back. All he does is use the supply, anyway. Useless fucking junkie.”

“For extra reassurance, Bobby’s going to take all the guns, including yours. We’ll leave them with the bouncer on our way out.”

Big Al gritted his teeth. “If you weren’t Carlo’s nephew—”

“Ah, but I am.” Once Bobby collected the guns, Vince slowly released his grip on the tie. “Nice doing business with you.” Keeping his pistol trained on Big Al’s forehead, he and Bobby slowly backed out of the room. He didn’t doubt there were more guns in the near vicinity, but he hoped he’d made enough of a point, and they were scared enough of Carlo’s retribution, that they’d let them grab Cassie and get the hell out of there.

***

Cassie checked the time.

If Vince and Bobby didn’t come out in seven minutes, she was supposed to leave.But how can I just leave not knowing if they’re okay, or in trouble, or…Her lungs deflated.Still breathing?

She considered ducking out and calling the cops. Thirty minutes was way too long to exchange money.

The feel of a hand on her shoulder made her turn. She’d expected Vince but got an enormous bald bouncer instead. “I need you to come with me,” he said.

Cassie swallowed. “No thanks.”

“It’s not really a question.”

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