“OKAY, WHAT THEACTUALfuck?”Lorenzo storms into the living room.“I leave fortwodays.”
Pain shoots through my side as I sit up in the recliner.“Nice of you to finally join us, brother.”
Cora rushes over, pushing me back down.“No, no.The doctor said you need to rest.A full week.No movement.”
I swat her off.“Relax, Cora.It’s not that serious.I’ve been shot before.”
“If it’s not that serious, then why is your face all twisted up like that?”
“Wait, you got hit?”Lorenzo asks.
“Barely,” I grunt.“Through the side.Missed anything vital.I’ll be good in a few.”
Gio strolls in, swigging a beer.“Pussying out on his Russian Twists paid off.Those jiggly love handles came through for him.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
Also, fuck Russian Twists.
He shrugs.“You’re just pissed I walked out smelling like daisies and you came out bleeding like a little bitch.”
“Can you two cut it with the childish bullshit and tell me what the fuck happened?”Lorenzo snips.
“Let the clown who smells like flowers explain,” I mutter, leaning back.“I need to conserve my energy and focus on healing faster so I can knock his goddamn teeth out.”
Gio snorts.“Keep running your mouth and I’ll come jab a finger in that bullet wound.”
Cora throws her hands up and storms out, muttering a string of colorful curses.
Lorenzo pinches the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh, then prompts, “Gio?”
Gio exhales.“Right.So, we had the meet with the Walshes, about getting their arms operation back up and running.Things felt a little off, hasty.But it’s the Irish, you know.Shit, they’ve been solid with us for over a decade.We showed up, realized a little too late it was a setup.A whole ambush.Tactical gear, face masks, high-grade shit.Found ourselves in a nasty shootout.Got boxed in.Ran out of ammo, had no choice but to take cover.”
He drops into the armchair across from me, shaking his head like he still hasn’t shaken it off.“Not gonna lie, I thought that wasitfor us.Those guys were pros.Clean, efficient, geared up toexecute.I swear, I was halfway through a fucking Hail Mary.”
He lets out a breath.“Then out of nowhere, they just start dropping.Like someone flipped a switch.We saw no one, heard no one.It’s as if ghosts came in and took them out.Fuckinginsane.The O must’ve changed their minds at the last second about letting us get fucked straight to Hell.”He stabs an accusing finger in my direction.“Can’t believe that’s the level of protection we’ve had from them all this time and this dumb ass went and fucked it up.”
“Well, shit…” Lorenzo mutters, settling on the arm of the couch.“We lost anyone?”
“Benny Ten and Guido,” Gio says.“Oscar took one in the shoulder.Raj and Sully caught a couple, but nothing fatal.”
“We got the fuck out of there and rang up the white coats,” I say.“Motherfuckers pumped us full of whatever tranquilizer-grade shit they had.By the time word got to us about what was going on here, it was already over.I’ve been in a fog ever since.Still trying to process what the fuck even happened.”
Lorenzo crosses his arms, brows drawn.“Well, I already spoke with the Uppers and the surveillance team.We lost two of ours in last night’s attack.”
“Shit.”
“Descriptions of the attackers are the same,” he continues.“Tactical gear, full face masks.Paid mercenaries, it turns out.Said they were hired by Jose Hernandez.”
That makes no sense.“Hernandez is dead.”
As planned, Skullaz MC did a surprisingly smooth job pouring gasoline on the cartels’ fragile truce.Once the match was lit and bodies started dropping, I had Jose Hernandez—the king pin—taken out.Clean and untraceable.
One more off the board.
One step closer to isolating and unmasking the fucker who’s trying to come after what’s mine.
“Exactly,” Lorenzo says grimly.“So, who the fuck is pulling strings behind a corpse?”