Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Katya
There’s an alarming amount of scrolling through security footage in my job. I’m bored, and that’s dangerous. Boredom leads to sloppiness. But now that I’ve added the Four Families to my watch list, things are more interesting. I can’t understand how or why these four crime families are linked. It doesn’t make sense—four different factions, all rivals, but never any conflicts or wars. They’ve created some sort of multi-generational alliance. And they’ve made powerful enemies.
I was able to confirm it was in fact The Deviant who launched the attack in Russia. Got that info from a little honey pot action a few weeks ago, who ended up dead.
Alarm bells would’ve gone up that an asset was compromised, but Brian had been fucking his neighbor’s wife, and when her husband came home, shots were fired, and Brian was past tense, and hubby confessed to the cops. Even his underworld counterparts were unsurprised and underwhelmed.
But scummy Brian didn’t wipe his hard drive, and it was easy enough to get it released from evidence. It was a treasure trove of sneaky dealings, and his phone was even better. Breadcrumbs and pinged locations gave me a long list of Deviant enemies and allies.
What it doesn’t give me is any actual information about who The Deviant is. But I guess that would make my job too easy.
So I’m splitting my time between tracking all his allies, and one guy stands out. His name is Crash and, predictably, he’s a bomb expert. I’m watching him on CCTV footage as he fucks around with some guy’s car. Running the plates, my heart drops. It's Thiago Ramos—one of the Four Families’ third generation.
“Shit!” I yell at my desk.
Jen, one of the data analysts for my team, spins around in her chair. “What’s wrong?”
“The Deviant’s making a move on the Four Families.”
Jen chews her gum and slowly blinks at me. “I fucking hate criminals with stupid nicknames.” She pushes her gum between her teeth to form a bubble. “What’s the big deal? Bad guys killing bad guys.”
I zoom in on the car. “See that? There’s a sticker on the inside window.”
“And?”
I fixate on the monitor “Look closer.”
“Oh, fuck, is that a car seat?”
“Thiago has a three-year-old daughter,” I say and watch the color drain from Jen’s face. She curses under her breath and spins around in her chair, typing away.
“Bad news. Crash is known for planting bombs that are triggered by GPS. His last three bombs exploded at the victims’ homes, typically in the garage so there’s no time to escape.”
The Four Families have been watching out for Dimitri and Ian, but how do I contact them? “Look into his family and get me any information you can on Thiago.”
Jen types away. “He makes sizable donations to his church.” Maybe I could reach out to the clergy or something. “Oh shit… what was the name of your neighbor you gave your cat to, which I would’ve taken if you had asked me?”
“You have three cats already. You’re pushing the crazy cat lady line as it is. Her name is Alana King.”
“Well, she’s listed as Maria Ramos’s godmother.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. I jump out of my seat, jot the number Jen pulled up onto a sticky note, and rush outside. We’re located at a skiff, no cell phones allowed, but people either lock them up at the front desk or keep them in their cars. Maintenance can’t go onto the property with phones either, but they’re rarely far from their cars. There’s a team of guys working on the parking lot. They’ve been here for a week, repainting the lines and rerunning the lights.
“Hi guys, can I borrow a phone? I locked my keys and phone in my car, and it’s going to be a whole thing if I can’t get Triple A out here.”
One of the men in a bright yellow vest leers at me. “Sure thing, sweetie.”
Gross. Not a fan of being called “sweetie,” but I take the phone and dash off to the other side of the parking lot.
I dial the number, and a voice on the other side of the phone says, “No, I will not be renewing my car’s limited warranty. May you walk over Legos in the middle of the night, you sick fuck,” Alana snaps.
“There’s a GPS-trigger bomb in Thiago Ramos’s car.”
Silence.
“Damn it, I’ve never wished so much for a robocall before.” Alana sighs. “Say it again, Katie.” I’m impressed she recognized my voice.
“Thiago Ramos’s life is in danger.”
“Because of the bomb? Or because he’s a giant pain in my ass who is really pushing the limits of our friendship?”
I kinda love how completely unfazed she is about everything. “I’m pretty sure it’s the bomb. What you do to him afterward isn’t my business.”
There’s a long sigh. “Dammit, Katie, it’s a good thing I like you, because every time you call, my blood pressure spikes.” The line goes dead and I scrub the number from the phone. I’ll flush the sticky note the minute I get a chance.
I walk back to the maintenance workers and pull out my keys. “I feel so dumb, they were in my pocket the whole time.” I smack myself on the head and toss the phone back to the yellow vest.
The rest of the day, I’m a ball of nerves. Did she save him? Did I just blow this entire operation?
Nothing eases my anxiety until I get home. There’s a box of stupidly expensive and addictive cookies on my counter. “Thanks -A.” She broke in again. But at least she left me dessert. I open the pink box and grab one with chocolate frosting. The cookie itself is soft, and a tad dry, but the frosting makes up for it.
My personal phone buzzes, and the cookie absorbs all the moisture in my mouth. My ex. The biggest mistake of my life.
Fucknugget: Hey Katie, I’m leaving town for a little while.
Me: Cool, sign the damn papers.
Fucknugget: Will do, when I get back.
Me: No. NOW.
Fucknugget: Too bad I can’t find a pen.
I grab a pillow and scream into it. With my long list of accomplishments, you would think I could handle my ex, but no. And every time I get close, somehow, he fucks it up again. And technically, he’s my ex-husband in my heart, body and mind, on paper we are separated but not divorced.
There’s a point where I wish I had friends. Other women I could drink wine with and chat. Instead, I have a voice on a phone who drops off cookies I can snack on while I sit at home and watch documentaries about my favorite musicians.
It’s times like this I miss Markus and Uri. But most of all, I miss Dimitri. I broke a million protocols leaving a phone for him and setting up a date. But it hurts not seeing him. Every action I do, it’s a reminder of him. Every tall man I see is like a flashbang memory of him and a life I could’ve had.
Three days later, my phone buzzes again.
Fucknugget: Lunch?
Me: I’d rather eat a baby, thank you. I thought you were going out of town.
Fucknugget: I was highly motivated to return.
Fucknugget: Please. We need to talk. We can go to that shitty café you like.
Me: It’s not shitty, it’s homey and cute as fuck.
Fucknugget: Whatever.
Me: I’m bringing pens. Lots of them. And copies of the paperwork.
I never get a response
The next afternoon, I’m waiting at the cafe and, of course, he's late. I’ll give him five more minutes, and I’m out. I’ll get something to go. They have a berry and goat cheese salad that’s to die for.
Five minutes turns into ten, and now I’m pissed off and too hangry for takeout. Table for one, it is. Another five minutes gone, and I hate myself for checking to make sure my lipstick hasn’t faded and left me with a weird lip line. Nope. All good. Check one for me. Plus, yummy salad on deck. So far, I’m two for two.
The café is full of the lunch crowd. One table of men stands out. They’re not the cozy café with blue cows on the wall type. They’re all in suits of various degrees—track suits, white shirts with black ties, or a fully custom suit. There’s a plate of cookies at the table, and the track-suit guy takes a bite, makes a face, and chugs a glass of water.
I’m with him on that. The salads are great, the baked goods are not. I’m a pink box cookie kinda gal.
My ex walks in wearing a baseball cap, his head down. His cheek is swollen, and both eyes have deep dark circles under them. He slides into the seat across from me.
“Holy shit, what happened to you?”
His hands shake as he pushes the divorce papers across the table. “Here you go.”
My brain doesn’t register what it’s seeing. “I don’t understand.”
He winces with every word. “You can have everything you want. Just take it while I’m gone.”
“Does this sudden very generous action have anything to do with your face?”
“Some fucking cunt of a bitch…” he starts, but his chest lights up with little red dots. He doesn’t notice it at first, but they’re reflecting off my water glass in front of him. His eyes widen, and he coughs, wincing again. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”
The red dots disappear.
“Some blonde woman showed up at my place with a few of her friends.” He juts his chin out toward the table of suits. “Roughed me up and told me to sign the papers, or next time it won’t be just my face.”
“The guys did this to you?”
“No.”
I grin. “You got beaten up by a girl?”
“She was a fucking ninja.” He clears his throat. “I’m sorry for being such a ‘small dick loser who would rather control the one good person in my life than let her be happy.’”
“I assume she’s given you some talking points.”
He huffs out of his nose. “Yeah.” He dips his head. “Even when we were good, we weren’t. I hope you find someone who gets you and can see all the things I couldn’t.” He pauses. “Can I have my cat back?”
“No.”
He nods and stands. “I didn’t think so.” He pats me on the shoulder and walks out.
A shadow settles over me. “Thank you.” I look up to see Thiago Ramos smiling at me.
“I’m pretty sure Alana did all the work.”
He laughs. “Oh, she did. But I was the one who rolled out of a moving car before it exploded.”
“How action movie of you,” I say between bites of my salad.
He pushes his hair off his face. “If I wasn’t about to shit my pants, it would’ve been pretty cool.” He puts a gold coin on my table. “Between what you did for me and Uri and Dimitri, you’re under the Four Families’ protection now.”
Wow, this all feels very John Wick.
“And you are…” I start.
“We’re under Alana’s protection,” he says without a hint of irony.
“So the most menacing criminal organization is a bunch of men who can’t protect themselves?”
He pinches his lips together and nods. “Sounds about right.”