Page 47 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
The man screams when Joe leans into the hold, and he nods. “Yes, yes!”
“I don’t want to fucking kill you,” Joe grits out, and I believe him. “But if you fucks wanna try to drag me back into this shit, I will fucking murder every last one of you. Do you fucking hear me?”
“Yes,” the man whimpers.
“Am I fucking clear?” he shouts, spit flying from his lips.
A woman with a stroller rounds the bend, spots the scene, and turns back around.
The man looks like he’s going to throw up. “Crystal, man. Fucking crystal.”
Joe throws the man to the ground, spitting on his face. “Get the fuck outta here. And tell your crew to leave me the fuck alone.”
The guy, probably just a punk kid in his early twenties, scrambles to his feet, his arm grotesquely dangling from his shoulder. He’s looking between Joe and his gun when Edgerton and crew come racing to the scene. Joe points out the gun on the ground, which they secure while surrounding the young man with overwhelming force.
Joe turns and starts walking toward me. I step back, not knowing what to expect from this version of him.
“Rand, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says, his voice still doing that intense Brooklyn thing as he lays a gentle hand on my arm. His fierce expression bleeds out and is replaced by worry. “I promise. I just wanna make sure you’re—”
“Holy fuck,” I breathe out. “You went full mob on him, didn’t you?”
Joe shakes his head. “He’d a been dead if I’d a gone full mob on him. And I didn’t wanna kill nobody today. Or ever, really.”
“Wait, did you just save my life again?” I joke, hoping to diffuse the energy crackling across my skin. Joe doesn’t laugh.
“Nah. He wasn’t going after you. Which is good for him.”
“Why good for him?”
Looking at me intently, letting me see the murder glint behind his eyes, he responds, “If he were going after you, I’d a killed him with my bare hands. And I wouldn’t a bothered with the niceties.”
His words stun me into silence. Smiling grimly, Joe pats my arm and turns his attention to Edgerton’s crew. They seem to be interrogating the man with the broken arm. Meanwhile, I’m horrified and gravely turned on by Joe’s promise on my behalf.
Seconds later, we hear sirens, and Edgerton releases the guy, who stumbles in the opposite direction. He and Joe flank me while the rest of the team takes a different route.
The two men march me to the nearest park exit and body me across the road, dodging cars and cursing under their breaths. They relax marginally when we make it to my building, only letting out a collective breath when we’ve made it to my private elevator and have begun to ascend.
Staring forward, Edgerton states the obvious. “Mr. Wolfe, I need to ask you to work within the security protocols I’ve given you. If you don’t, I cannot guarantee your safety.”
“I apologize, Edgerton. I just needed to get out of this building.”
Closing his eyes, I suppose to avoid witnessing my stupidity, he answers, “Sir, you are allowed to leave the building. You are not a prisoner. Just allow me to do my job and put men on you.”
“Yes, well, that still feels rather prison-like to me.”
“Mr. Wolfe, if you need us to hang back, be less visible, it’s not my favorite, but we can arrange it. But Mr. Portelli’s situation adds danger in every possible way, and I cannot protect you when you take off like that.”
“Mr. Portelli’s situation is my doing. It’s not his fault.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And if you can’t provide adequate security for the man who saved my life, then let me know so I may find the right person for the job.”
Edgerton turns toward me, his eyes dark and foreboding. “I assure you my security is more than adequate. Providing that the client isn’t actively circumventing it.”
“Your security was rather easy to go around, truth be told. And besides, Joe had the situation well in hand.”
Edgerton’s face takes on a neutral aspect that is entirely frightening. “Sir, if you would like for me to have my team treat you like a detainee, I’m more than happy to do so. As for Mr. Portelli’s aid in this situation, I’m grateful. But they were lying in wait for him, and it was a matter of luck that you weren’t collateral.”
