Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
“D o I want to know?” Kai asks from beside me, a smirk plastered across his face.
I ignore his remark, instead focusing on Federov’s men as they open our new shipment. The cold air assaults me, my cheeks burning from the temperature, but I find comfort in the numbness the weather brings. If only it would numb everything else. “Nothing to concern yourself with,” I mutter.
Turning around so his back is facing the docks, he stares back at me with a pointed expression. “Bonanno?”
Glancing at Malakai,, I nod, taking out a cigarette and bringing it to my mouth. It’s been two days since my encounter with Alvaro, and I’m pretty sure if that guy doesn’t kill me, the amount of nicotine I’ve absorbed in the last forty-eight hours will. Lighting up my smoke, I regard Kai and the concerned look he offers me.
I must look like I’ve done ten rounds in the ring, so I appreciate the concern from my second. However, I deserved the black eye and split lip. I’ll take the gash across my cheek from Alvaro’s fist and the almost broken nose, because it’s my own state of purgatory. I can live with the cuts and bruises, but what I revealed to Alvaro could land me in worse trouble if I’m not careful.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Do I look like I want to talk about my ass getting kicked by the Italian?” I bite out.
A silent warning spreads between me and my second. He keeps his mouth shut as he turns back around to watch as the men pull out the crates from the container. Clearly, he’s on a mission to piss me off today, and it’s fucking working. I need the distraction tonight, I don’t need it to be a reminder of what happened a couple of days ago.
The clanging of metal and the clipping of shoes on concrete permeates the silence. One by one, the crates are moved from the metal box to three large trucks. This shipment is bigger than usual. We’re still being kept in the dark about what’s inside, but I’m under no illusion that it’s the liquor we promised to Gambino and his clubs.
I suck in a blanket of nicotine, eyes narrowed through the smoke that I exhale as I focus on the men. They move seamlessly across the docks, carting crates of the Federovs’ next import.
“Any idea what they’re importing?” Kai asks.
“Not a clue,” I reply between exhales. Smoke wraps around us, just enough to conceal our conversation. In the distance, the container is still being cleared, so we have to be careful what we say. “Something tells me we’re not supposed to know what’s inside those crates.”
It makes sense for the Russians to be bringing that kind of product, though it doesn’t explain why they’ve kept me out of the loop. There are a number of reasons why Konstantin wouldn’t divulge the new shipments to me, but the particular one that comes to mind is the most worrying.
“But we can find out,” he suggests.
“No,” I order, dropping my cigarette to the ground and stomping it out beneath my foot. “I don’t want to piss them off. If they want us to know, they’ll tell us.” The last thing we need is to become fish food, and the Federovs won’t hesitate to make an example of us if we defy them. Unless we have orders to open those crates, we don’t go near them.
I can’t risk pushing any more boundaries right now. Alvaro already has information that could be my demise if he so wishes. Hell, I wouldn’t blame him if he was to use it against me. Somehow, I doubt he’s that kind of guy. Sure, he’s a hot-headed, angry sonofabitch, but the last thing Bonanno is, is vindictive.
I just have to keep reminding myself of that. If anyone is going to get me caught, it’ll be myself.
When the container is eventually emptied, Federov soldiers disperse, leaving me and my second. It’s silent as we head back to the car, a heavy weight of unspoken words smothering us. I can’t shake the feeling that Kai wants to get something off his chest, and even as I consider what that might be, a sense of unease washes over me.
He starts the car, but doesn’t move us off the docks. The rumble of the engine becomes the background to our tentative conversation, rattling away until it becomes too much.
Finally, he speaks, his words filled with anguish. “I was talking to her today.”
“How is she?” I ask, giving him my full attention.
He clears his throat, but doesn’t answer. I guess now really isn’t the time for that conversation. “Those crates are just the beginning,” he replies instead. “There’s a whole load of shit coming to the city, Bratan. ”
“What kind of shit?”
Malakai leans towards me, pinning me with a look that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “The kind that separates the real men from the criminals.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. The thought of what the Federovs are planning to bring to the city doesn’t fill me with much confidence. They’re already willing to start a war over bringing new product into New York, treading on the toes of the families who own this city. If what Kai is saying is correct, I need to finish this job once and for all.
* * *
C hecking my watch for the tenth time in less than a minute, I sink back the rest of my coffee, relishing the heat that burns through my chest on its way down. I push up from my table, heading towards the door to the coffee shop, already pissed that I’ve had to wait so long. My time is precious, valuable, and it’s fucking risky for me to be out in the open now that my secret is out.
Releasing a breath, I step out onto the vacant street. I chose this particular place because it’s quiet and tucked away on the outskirts of the city. Unless someone is purposefully looking for me, this is the last place I’d be found.
I rub a finger over my split lip, the cut still prominent. Alvaro really did a number on me the other night, and I let him. I could have overpowered him. I could have easily fought back, but I didn’t want to. The self-destructive part of me willingly gave into the onslaught because, above all the things I feel towards him, Varo needed it. It’s fucked up that I allowed my guilt to get the better of me, but I know why. I’m feeling shit for the guy that should be my enemy. Aside from the guilt, I’m angry. I’m pissed that all the bricks I’ve worked hard to place strategically over the last five years are now falling away. Like a tower crumbling beneath an earthquake, my emotional wall is going to tumble, and all that will be left is rubble. I need to evacuate before the wreckage takes me under.
Which is why I requested this meeting today. I meant what I said to Varo about getting out. Five years has gotten me nowhere, but the sooner I’m out, the better.
I just don’t know what it will cost me.
Reaching for my cigarettes and lighter, I spark up the end of one and take a long hard inhale. The nicotine hits me hard, rushing through my bloodstream. It’s the only thing that seems to still the chaotic thoughts in my mind.
“You know those will kill you.”
My eyes narrow on the man who owns the voice—Collins, my handler. Every time I see him, the distaste grows. Maybe it’s because he’s done nothing but ride my ass, or maybe it’s because I’m envious of the fact my freedom relies on him and his approval. Either way, I refuse to greet the man with anything but contempt.
“I can think of worse ways to die,” I grunt impatiently.
“Looks like you might have tried,” he comments, gesturing to my face.
“It was a misunderstanding,” I grumble back.
He nods, eyes fixated on me as he acknowledges my words for a moment, then gestures to the table and chairs situated outside the coffee shop. “You wanted to talk?”
He takes the seat closest to me, crossing one leg over the other and linking his hands. I can’t help but notice how weathered his face looks, his eyes tired and lips tight. But despite that, he exudes the patience of a man who has all the time in the world.
I don’t.
Ten years I’ve been with the bureau, picked up from selection when I was in the US Navy. I’ve spent over a decade dedicated to my country, half of that spent undercover, and it’s finally reached the point where it’s taking its toll on me. I don’t have friends or family I can trust; the bureau strips that away from you—well, in my line of work it has. The only thing I did have was ruined by this very job. It’s time to get back some control.
Tossing my smoke into a nearby puddle, I huff my irritation and take a seat opposite him, my chair scraping across the pavement. I run a hand through my hair, tugging on the ends. “I’m done.”
He looks at me with an inquisitive gaze, before it shifts into suspicion. “You mean you’ve been made?” he questions.
“No,” I confirm with a shake of my head. “I’m done. I’m out. The Federovs aren’t going to give me anything of value, this…” I dart a finger between us, “is over.” As soon as those last two words leave my lips, I feel the weight shift from my shoulders. It takes a lot for me to give up on something, but after what happened with Alvaro, I know what I need to do.
The silence between us grows thick and heavy, the weight that just vanished reappears in the beat it takes the man across from me to exhale loudly. “No,” he says abruptly, making my eyes widen.
“The fuck do you mean, no?” I snap through clenched teeth. “I have nothing, I?—”
“ You don’t quit until I say so.” His tone bites at my already heightened anger.
“You said so yourself, if you have to call it in, you will.”
Collins offers me a dry smile, linking his hands together. “Then it’s on my terms.”
“Collins,” I plead, leaning forward on the table and lowering my voice. “If I dig any deeper, I’m a dead man.”
He tilts his head. “And that’s never stopped you before,” he remarks.
He’s right. I’ve never been deterred by the thought of dying, but that’s because I didn’t have much to lose. I might still have nothing to lose, but I know if I can get out of this, I’ll have a lot to gain.
Sighing, Collins wraps his fingertips across the metal table. “You don’t need to dig any deeper,” he assures calmly. “A new drug has made its way to the city, and I think your organization is behind it.” He folds his arms as he lets that piece of information sink in.
And it does. I knew the Federovs were importing something else besides liquor, and I sensed it was drugs. If I can confirm Collins’ suspicions, then I can be out of this sooner than I thought.
Resigning to the idea, I nod in affirmation. “What am I looking for?”
“Rosecaine,” he states. “It’s a form of cocaine, discovered in Miami last year. It spread quickly, and at first we thought it was the Italians, but they don’t?—”
“They don’t meddle with the south.”
“We’ve been unable to track the source… until now. So, if you can get some concrete evidence, it’ll boost our case.”
Uncertainty washes over me. Whatever the reason is for the Federovs’ discretion, it’s risky for me to push to be involved. I need to figure out how I’m going to get information or even proof without being caught. Vadim is already watching me closely, and after what happened the other night, I don’t know how much I can trust my second.
The truth is, the Russians are a danger to this city in more ways than one. Drugs aside, I still have a job to do, and I can’t fail.
“I can try,” I respond, though my words aren’t filled with the confidence they should be.
“You don’t sound too happy about that,” he accuses.
“It’s not going to be easy.”
He nods in understanding. He knows just how dangerous this will get, we both do. But I took this job for a reason.
“Things are getting messy,” I admit.
“How so?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I grumble. “Just promise me once this is done, it’s done.”
Collins pushes up from his chair, pulling up the collar of his jacket to cover his neck. “Sometimes things have to get messy before we can clean them up, Milo. But I’ll have your resignation ready to sign when this is all over.”