Page 65 of Her Guardian
Because if I’m not doing something, I’ll just lie in the bed, thinking about Boyd.
CHAPTER 25
Boyd
It’s getting harder to leave Sarah, even when I have to.
This pull. This ache. The only place I want to be is with her. I’d much rather be dozing with her in my arms than watching my crew load boxes into a truck. Dante is standing beside me. He looks rather worried, and I understand why.
“We need a lot more than this,” Dante says, disappointment in his voice. “It’ll be better than staking places out, but we won’t be able to protect everyone.”
“We’ll do the best we can,” I assure him. “The three you came up with. Those families first. Then we’ll go from there.”
“It’s a good plan,” Dante sighs, glancing over at me. “Asking Sarah was a smart move. Not used to many of those from you, Big Boyd.”
“Whatever it takes to get this motherfucker,” I grunt. “If this doesn’t work, I think we should just tear Las Vegas apart until we find him, rather than acting like the fucking cops.”
“That’s way too messy. All these fucking tourists? Lots of innocent people.” Dante shakes his head. “It was bad enough when Massimo went after the Bratva. Course that would have been nothing compared to what would have happened if Massimo went after Emilio—when Massimo thought his brother put the hit out on him.”
“No kidding,” I say. “Hopefully this works. All we have to do is find this motherfucker and then we can put an end to it.”
“And pray there’s no dead man’s switch full of information about the Morandi family or any of the families we’re trying to protect from the bastard,” Dante sighs, motioning for the guys to hurry up with the last few boxes.
“I leave the praying to Leo,” I shrug. “If there’s information about us, we’ll get it out of him before we finish him off. I can be very persuasive. So can Massimo.”
“We’ve got to find him first,” Dante says, yelling at one of his guys who is moving too slow.
I fold my arms across my chest and glare at my crew. Dante takes a few steps forward, fires some more orders, and walks back to stand beside me.
“By the way,” I add. “It really pissed me off when nobody called me after Lloyd Brennan’s kid got killed.”
“That was my fault,” Dante says. “After everything that happened when Erica, you were sidelined. I wasn’t sure where you stood, and didn’t think to ask Massimo about it with allthe chaos. Besides, you already had an assignment. One directly from the boss.”
“Yeah, but shit like this?” I pull my arm away from my chest and wave a hand. “Everyone needs to know.”
“Agreed. It wasn’t personal, Boyd,” Dante says, walking toward the truck once the last box is loaded. “Alright, everyone, let’s go!”
The truck rumbles to life and Dante hops in the passenger seat. I go to my SUV. A few of my guys rode with me, so I light a cigarette and wait for them to get in.
I’m still pissed about being essentially forgotten the first night the Mafia Prince Killer struck in Las Vegas, but I’ll get over it. Mistakes happen and it sounds like it wasn’t intentional, so I won’t dwell on it right now. There’s more important shit to worry about.
Once my guys are in the SUV, we head back to Las Vegas. An hour later, we hand the boxes over to the guys who will be installing the gas sensors and return to the war room. Dante’s already made the arrangements with the families who will be getting them, but several on the list get a disappointing phone call because we didn’t get as many as we hoped.
Still, it’s better than nothing.
Now all we can do is wait, ready to go at a moment’s notice.
I’d much rather be with Sarah.
A long night.
A longer day.
I finally have to go home, shower, put on a clean suit, and keep myself going with coffee. Sarah and I trade messages, but I can’t pull myself away from the war room. Every ranking member of the family is here except Massimo, but he’ll get a call from Dante the second we learn something.
“If there’s nothing tonight, we’re going to have to start pulling shifts,” Dante says, looking around the room. “Otherwise, we’ll be dead on our feet when something finally does happen.”
“Agreed,” someone calls out.
