Page 65 of Flawed

"Shut up," he sneers.

"Sid's question isn't out of line. This isn't some dumb-ass gambler off the street," Jimmy states.

"When the boss gives orders, I follow them. I don't question him. Do you?" I challenge.

The vehicle turns quiet. No one would dare ask Jacopo to explain his orders.

Relief fills me. I don't want to have to create more lies. I don't want to go into some long, detailed story about why we're doing what we're doing.

Thankfully, my answer appeases them.

Tension fills the car as we travel through the city. I can feel their nerves, and I'm glad it's not just me. I do my best to appear nothing but confident.

We pull into the docks. We put our silencers on our Glocks. Then I put my hand on the door and instruct, "Hold on."

All three of them wait.

"Jacopo said Jimmy's to shoot out the cameras in the gray zone," I lie.

"Why me?" he asks.

I can't blame him. If any crime family found out he disturbed the cameras, he'd be dead within a few days.

I continue, "Once again, I don't ask questions. Now, don't forget. Brody stays alive. Jacopo was very insistent on this."

Benny asserts, "Understood. Let's get this over with."

We get out. I lead them through the docks, ignoring the workers. We get a few feet from the gray line, and I nudge Jimmy.

He shakes his head, aims at the camera, and hits it. I point to the other one, and he does the same.

I step into the gray zone and swallow the bile rising up my throat. I'm dead if I'm being set up or anything goes wrong.

Better to be dead than have Jacopo torture me.

I push that thought to the back of my mind and concentrate on the dark fog, squinting to see if Danny and Brody are anywhere in sight.

But there's no one to be seen.

The hairs on my arms rise right as three pops fill the air. Benny, Sid, and Jimmy all fall to the ground with bullets in their heads. Another pop rings loudly.

My pulse quickens. I glance around then rush farther into the gray zone, trying to stay on the border that doesn't butt up to anyone's territory.

Someone makes a "Psst" sound several times.

I spin to see Brody and Aidan.

"Sorry, but don't want you to blow your cover," Brody states, then lowers his gun and shoots.

Pain grazes my outer thigh. "What the fuck!" I shout, dropping my Glock. I fall to the ground. Blood pools all around me.

"You need to get out of here. Go back through the Abruzzo territory," Brody says, then motions to Aidan.

He grabs my Glock and removes the bullets, shoving them into his pocket. Then they pick me up, drag me through the gray zone so fast, I can't catch my footing, and drop me back on the ground.

Brody crouches in front of me.

Aidan mutters, "He's fine. Let's go."

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