Chapter 4
four
-Brynn-
I’m getting desperate. Desperate enough to accept having a drink with Vince—one of Ares’s men. He’s a lot closer to Ares than Silver is and knows way more about his businesses.
He thinks he’ll get me to open my legs for him, while I know I’ll only get him drunk enough to talk.
That’s because I spiked his drink with a little something that will soon make him feel like he drank a whole bottle instead of a glass.
At least he’s not holding back, knowing I already work here, so I must be in on what’s going on.
Truth is, I wasn’t up to date with more than half of the operations that he’s talking about. Jesus, Ares keeps himself busy with all the illegal shit he has going on. I swear, if I were a cop, I’d have every last one of them locked up on the spot.
Ares really needs to learn to pick his men better because this man definitely never heard of omerta.
But no matter how much Vince spills, there’s nothing about the Halloween game.
I’m starting to think I’ve been on the wrong track this whole time, and I wasted almost a year here.
But just when I’m about to give up, he drops a very important piece of information.
Maybe my last shot at getting closer to Ares.
Or what could always turn out to be the last day of my life. Either way.
One of Ares’s gun shipments went south after the cops got involved. But in fact, it was all a setup. The Virelli’s—one of the newer mafia families in town—paid off the cops to get their hands on the shipment. Just trying to make a name for themselves.
They run a grocery store on Main as a front for whatever operation they’re trying to set up. And the best part is that the weapons are still in one of their supply trucks.
Apparently, Ares is waiting for backup to hit the place, since he has a few more shipments coming in tonight, and he needs all hands on deck.
Vince certainly won’t join them since he passes out on the table seconds later.
A mix of the booze and the drug I slipped him so our date wouldn’t end with our clothes on the floor. More like with him on the floor.
There’s this low hum in my chest telling me I’m about to do something really fucking stupid.
I search Vince’s jacket and pockets, where I find two guns that I take, then bolt to my car and go home and change. I’m wearing a skirt and sandals. I can’t exactly face down a whole mafia family dressed in that—because yes, that’s what I’m about to do.
I know the place he’s talking about, and it doesn’t take me long to get there.
I’m expecting it to be an easy job, if I’m lucky.
I should be in and out, hotwire the van—because yes, I’ve done that before—and get the hell away from there with Ares’s weapons.
I mean, if that doesn’t earn me his trust, then I don’t know what will.
But as usual, nothing ever goes according to plan, and things are a lot more fucked up as I get there. The van’s inside a warehouse.
Of course, why wouldn’t the van be inside a warehouse?
I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but this is impossible.
I scope the perimeter, and I can see two guards and what looks like two of the Virelli’s themselves.
How the fuck am I supposed to get around them?
Luckily, I’ve seen enough movies to figure something out. And since the Virelli’s are still inside, maybe I could pull it off just by taking out the guards.
I take my phone out of my pocket and pretend to stare at it while I enter the alley behind the store, where the warehouse is.
Grinding my teeth into a fake smile, I approach one of the guards, asking him to look at the map opened on my screen, “Hi… sorry, but I seem to be lost. Can you help me out, please?” I ask, batting my lashes, knowing damn well that he’s staring down my cleavage and not at my phone.
But that’s exactly what I was hoping for.
I grab the back of his head and slam my knee into his face as hard as I can, then jump on his back, wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing harder and harder, until his body gives out and he goes limp.
Just as I’m about to drag him further into the alley, next to the dumpster, I hear a sound behind me.
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” It’s the other guard, and before he gets to react, I pull out my gun and shoot him. He drops, finger on the trigger, but never gets to fire. It was either me or him.
Fuck. Fuck, what have I done?
I want to check for the keys to the warehouse, but as I scramble through the guard's pockets, I can hear footsteps in the alley.
Maybe the universe just wants to see how far I’ll go because I find the keys. I just pray they work. I’m dead if these aren’t the right ones.
I fumble with them in the lock but finally manage to get it open just as a bullet zips past my head.
I don’t have time to do this. No time to think either, so I just spin around and start firing.
I worked for a month at the carnival when I was a kid, and I got top of the leaderboard at the shooting range, so even if I don’t have much practice, my bullets don’t miss.
The two men chasing me drop to the ground as I rush to throw the door open, jump into the van, and disappear into the night.
I don’t even know how to drive a fucking van. It sounded much easier in theory, but I didn’t have time to take lessons. The opportunity presented itself, and I took it.
My pulse starts to slow as I approach The Breach, the road wavers ahead of me, every turn feels heavier as I’m growing more tired.
My hands shake on the wheel and the exhaustion is no longer just in my head.
It’s literally leaking out of me as I feel something wet on my right side somewhere below my breast.
I have a bad feeling about this, but I have no choice. I reach for that spot anyway. And as I pull my hand away, I see it covered in blood.
Dumb Brynn, really fucking dumb move on your part.
I park the van right in front of The Breach, toss the keys to the bodyguard there, asking him to guard it with his fucking life. Then I call Silver and tell her she has to come pick up the guns.
I don’t wait for her, though, just get myself a Lyft and head straight home.
I’ve left my car a few blocks from the store, but I’m in no shape to go get it.
All I can think about is not passing out in this guy’s car.
I can’t go to the hospital, so I’ll need to get home and fix whatever this is myself.
I do dumb shit when I’m desperate, but this one managed to top them all.
I remember blacking out a couple of times in the car, but I come to just seconds before the driver told me I’d arrived at my place.
I pay him, then get the hell out of the car, straight into my apartment.
I need a drink, and I take a few shots of tequila from a bottle I once came home with from some bar right after Elias’s death. Can’t really remember the rest of the details.
I don’t even fucking like tequila, but I chase it with painkillers. And it manages to bring me back on my feet, long enough so I can turn on the water.
I go to the bathroom and lift my shirt. At least I’m not dying, but there’s an ugly wound right beneath my breast. The bullet grazed me, but it must’ve been high caliber, because it still did real damage.
I can see the burn marks across my skin, but there’s still a coin-sized gash torn open that’s still bleeding heavily. If I don’t get it under control soon, I’ll be unconscious before I know it.
I open a drawer, fumbling through it for some bandages, when I hear the apartment door slam open.
Fuck, I mutter, but I don’t have time to react. Two of Ares’s men come bursting in, and I barely manage to yank my shirt down in time.
“Boss wants to see you,” one of them barks. And I doubt they’ll give me a bathroom break.
“Okay,” I murmur. Because yeah, this time I got Ares’s attention.
I won’t mention the wound; it’s not a good idea. The upside is that I probably won’t have to fix it since I’ll be dead—or promoted—after this meeting. You never know in this line of work.
I recognize where we’re going, even though my eyes can barely stay open.
This isn’t The Breach. It’s Ares’s house. What the hell?
“Can I get some water?” I ask one of the guys, who only turns back at me and snaps.
“This ain’t a fucking all-inclusive resort. But maybe you’ll get lucky and boss’ll make you sleep with the fishes. Then, you’ll have enough water,” he ends with the dark laugh, which makes everything seem much more foreboding.
At this point, I’m so tired I could drop dead. I don’t even care. I just want to lie down somewhere.
I lean against the car’s door, letting my body go slack just to get a moment of peace.
My breath fogs the window, the blur of the streetlights bleeding into gold streaks.
My eyelids are so heavy that I would give anything to keep them closed for a while.
But the car jerks to a stop sooner than I expected, dragging me back to reality.
One of the men gets out of the car, hauls me out, and leads me through the front door, down a hallway, into the living room.
Ares is waiting for me in an armchair by the fireplace. There’s a dark gaze in his eyes, and his jaw twitches with restrained anger. His eyes lost their brownish color. They’re almost fully black now, and the more that I look at him, the more unearthly he looks.
The lighting is dim, and although it’s only the end of September, it’s been raining for the past few weeks, so the fire’s lit.
I instantly notice the curtains are pulled. They’re never pulled, I should know because I used to look inside, so this can’t be a good sign.
I think he wants to kill me.