Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
When I open my mouth, the magic words fly out. “You’re looking for Miguel, right?”
Castillo’s eyes light and he searches my face a moment, before revealing quietly, “Yes. He’s been missing a week, unreachable. It’s why we’re all gathered here today, to put out a search for him.” He takes in my solemn expression, then asks a hopeful, “You know where he is, yes?”
I voice my response sensibly. “Yes. He was taken.”
“By who?” Castillo inches closer to me, eyes wide, desperation lining his question.
Feeling somewhat like a caged animal, I fight the urge to lash out. My hands still in the air, my dead eyes meet his, and I calmly utter, “Vouch for me.”
I’m not saying another motherfucking word without a guarantee of some sort.
He looks at me a long moment before turning to Vito Gambino, and telling the other man, “I vouch for him. He has the right to speak as my guest. Turn him away and show me a grave disrespect.”
Gambino looks mad as hell, but when his eyes reach mine, with a single look of fury, I silently dare him to say a word against me. Gambino jerks his head back to his men. “Put ‘em away. Let’s hear what Mr. Carter has to say. After all”—he smiles darkly at my wrecked SUV—“he did throw away a hundred grand just to get our attention.”
As the men watch me distrustfully, I announce loudly, “Actually, I have something you’re going to want to see.” When Gambino looks down at me as though I’ve officially outstayed my welcome, I go on, “But I need to bring another guy in. He’s waiting for me to signal him in. He won’t advance until I call.”
Castillo looks confused. “See?”
My words come out slowly, meaningfully. “You’re really going to want to see this.”
Without a moment’s thought, he nods in consent. “Bring your man in.”
Taking one hand, I lower it to retrieve my cell and make the call. Not a minute later, a black Jaguar XE appears at the end of the drive, making the slow descent to where the gathering of men have amassed outside.
The tinted window lowers and Braden Kelly sticks his head out, smiling. “Someone order a pizza?” When nobody cracks a smile, Braden’s grin falls from his face, and he mutters out the side of his mouth, “Tough crowd.”
He exits the car, and his brothers, Shane and Connor, step out. Connor’s hand is still wrapped up tightly in gauze, the gunshot wounds I awarded him still fresh. Shane leans against the car, while Connor moves to sit on the hood.
Vito Gambino objects. “You said one guy, Carter.”
It’s Connor who responds, and he does this with a fuckload of heat. “If you think we’re going to let our baby brother into a locked house with the likes of you, and not be here to make sure he exits in the same condition he arrived in,” he scoffs, “you’ve lost your mind, old man.”
Gambino takes offense just as Connor meant for him to. “Why, you little fuck—”
But Castillo speaks over him, looking to the Kelly boys. “I know your mother, Aileen.” He tells them quietly, “She’s a nice lady. Runs a tight ship. Holds her family close. I like her.”
Shane, ever the diplomat, inclines his head, and his gratitude is genuine. “Thank you. We like her too, most days.”
Connor, who hasn’t stopped glaring at Vito Gambino, finds his sense, and explains, “Listen, we’re not going in with Braden. We’re just going to hang out here, completely in view. When family is concerned, we take safety seriously. I think you boys can understand that.”
Vito cools his jets with a long sigh, shaking his head. “Let’s get this over with.”
He calls all of the men into the house, stopping to whisper into the ear of one of his soldiers, and when the entrance is almost clear, two soldiers come to stand directly across from Connor and Shane. As I enter the house alongside Castillo, I hear Connor mutter to one of the men, “Well, aren’t you pretty in your fancy suits.”
We enter the parlor, the room where the meet was in full swing before my unexpected entrance, and Braden gets to work, setting up his laptop by the big screen TV on the wall and plugging wires into it. He gives me the thumbs-up when it’s ready to go, and I move to stand beside him to address the men of the underground.
“I don’t know some of you, but most of you will know me. Those of you who don’t will know my name in the very least, know my position.” I pause to look over the crowd of many faces. “The video you’re about to watch is disturbing. No sugarcoating it. But I need you to remember we’re men of code. I ask that you watch the video in full and think before you react.” My glare is deadly. “I have the reflexes of a cat and can shoot faster than any of you motherfuckers. I got the backing of thirty of the deadliest men and baddest bitches in the continental US, one of my recent acquisitions being Aileen Kelly. Not only did I put her youngest son in the ground, but also, I shot two holes in her middle son just days ago.” My gaze passes a smirking Claudio Conti, and I want to pistol-whip the jerk. Just for the record, I add, “As far as y’all are concerned, I’m untouchable. Remember that.”