Page 106 of King of Malice

“When we land.”

“Where should I tell her to go?”

I’d yet to make that determination. “I’ll decide before you call her.” I left my seat, heading for Stavros. “Your job is to protect the woman who found the package.”

“A civilian?” He seemed surprised.

“A friend Whitney called.”

He threw her another look then sighed. “This is going to get messy.”

“Likely.”

“That’s what you want. Isn’t it? You’re drawing the person responsible out into the open.”

“It’s better to unearth the rocks myself, Stavros. Even if the cut is the deepest.” It was something our father used to say. If he remembered, I wasn’t certain, but it had special meaning on this night.

It was a little after one in the afternoon, the flight taking longer than expected given the few storms we’d run into. The daylight wasn’t ideal for dispensing punishment or for a bloody massacre. What it could do was prevent one.

If I played my cards right. If what I suspected would happen, the attack would come down swift and hard.

Only I had no intentions of being on the receiving end. Yet as the plane taxied down, I felt an intense pain in my gut. I wasn’t just risking my life, but Whitney’s as well. But in truth, I would rather have her by my side where I could protect her than sitting in a gilded cage where anyone could get to her.

I hated the distrust, the questions about loyalty swirling in my mind.

And most of all, I loathed the ugliness regarding the person I suspected had turned against me. It weighed like a huge boulder that would follow me around long after the situation was rectified. No number of bullets fired or blood spilled in the streets would do that.

But several deaths could be necessary.

The irony of what I’d soon be facing kept bile in the back of my throat.

“Where the hell are we going?” Stavros asked as the jet rolled toward a gate.

“Where do you suggest, playboy? You’ve been to Miami several times in your days of sun and fun. Isn’t that what you called your disappearing acts?”

He didn’t seem surprised I was chiding him, but his eyes flashed with fury. Then he laughed. “You’re a conniving son of a bitch. I suggest a public place where the assholes would be fools to attempt any disruption.”

“Then name the place.”

He thought about it for a second, a wry grin crossing his face. “The Wharf.”

I knew the location, Maxim taking the Brotherhood there on one occasion. It was still risky, but the public location near the water could prove to be helpful. “Done.”

His smile grew and he pulled out his weapon, checking that everything was in order.

“I have a couple phone calls to make.”

“I’ll check to ensure there’s no issue back in Philly.”

“You do that.” I was surprised at his eagerness. Perhaps he wanted to make amends for his less than stellar behavior. As I returned to where Whitney was seated, she tipped her head, her eyes filled with concern. “Contact your friend. Ask her to meet us at The Wharf in one hour.”

“The restaurant and bar by the water?”

“That’s the place. Tell her to wait by the interior bar. You’ll text her when we arrive.”

“What if there’s trouble?”

Bending over, I cupped her face. “Then I’ll deal with it. You’ll need to place your full trust in that I know what I’m doing. Under no circumstances are you to venture off by yourself. Do you understand me?”

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