Page 133 of Flawed

I rise, coming out of my shock. "Hey, before you go, I need to talk to you about something."

"You have another place you need me to blow up? If you do, the favors you owe me will get bigger." He smirks.

I ignore his comment, blurting out, "Why was Alaina O'Leary coming out of your building?"

The color drains from his face. He tries to cover up his discomfort and surprise. He claims, "I don't know what you're talking about."

But he does. I can tell he does. I push, "Don't lie to me. Alaina O'Leary walked out of your building the same day I was there. It wasn't long after I had left."

His eyes harden. He firmly asserts, "I don't know what you're accusing me of. If an O'Leary was on my property, you know they wouldn't be allowed to leave the building."

I continue, "If something's going on between you and Alaina—"

"Are you really accusing me of something with an O'Leary?" he barks.

I try another approach. "I, of all people, know things can look one way and be another."

He only restates, "I have no knowledge of Alaina O'Leary anywhere near my building, but I'll look into it. Anything else?"

I decide to drop it for now. Eventually, I'll find out if Brody's got something going on with Alaina. I answer, "No. Thanks again."

"Great. See you later," he replies, then hightails it to his car. He peels away, and I drive to the safe house.

Within a few minutes of arriving home, I get a text.

BOSS:Get over here now.

Me:On my way.

My chest tightens. There are going to be consequences to pay. I knew it before I talked to Brody.

When I arrive, I groan inside. All of Angelo's and Tully's sons are in the office. They all stand, arms crossed, with hardened looks on their faces.

Tully releases his lung full of cigar smoke and belts out, "Which of my sons helped you?"

I play dumb. "Helped me do what?"

He steps closer, threatening, "Don't mess with me, Luca."

"Somebody want to fill me in on what is going on?" I assert, then grab a joint and light it up.

Angelo grabs the joint from me and stubs it out in an ashtray. He points in my face, demanding, "Who helped you blow up Jacopo's compound?"

I try to appear surprised and grunt. "You're fully aware that I don't know anything about bombs. But is the motherfucker dead?"

Tristano answers, "Yeah. And all his top thugs."

I nod. "Good. I won't say I'm sad to hear that."

Tully's eyes turn darker. He snarls, "Do you have any clue what you've done?"

I toss my hands in the air. "I didn't do anything. As stated, I don't know the first thing about bombs."

Tully explodes, "I want to know right now who did it!"

Tension fills the air. He studies each of his sons. They all stand with their heads held high, not flinching. He lunges at me, grabs my shirt, and spit flies out of his mouth as he demands, "Who helped you?"

I push him. "Don't you fucking touch me."

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