Chapter 40
I keep rereading Genesis’s text on my phone.
Genesis: Too bad. This might be your favorite, and I want to see your face when I tell you.
Please let it be that she’s pregnant .
She hasn’t mentioned a period, and we’ve been trying like crazy.
Today might be the best damn day of my life.
I’ll get Yaroslav off my back, and Genesis and I can live our lives without thinking about fucking Russians.
Sure, I’ll always have to watch my back for enemies, but Dima is constantly on my mind.
Antonio and Damien are with me.
I slip my phone into my pocket when we pull up to the same warehouse where I met Yaroslav when I paid him the initial deposit for Genesis. The only other vehicle is a black Suburban with a yellow snake bumper sticker.
“Let’s go get this shit over with,” I say from the back seat.
Antonio drove, and Damien is in the passenger seat.
I snatch the duffel bag with my cash and hop out of the car. Damien and Antonio do the same. The warehouse door is unlocked, and we let ourselves in. Last time I was here with Yaroslav, he had a guard at the door.
Maybe he knows he can trust me now since we had no problem with payment before.
Or maybe something’s up, and this won’t go as easy as I hoped.
A man is in the corner, shirtless, punching a boxing bag hanging from the ceiling. The other is spread out in a chair, eating ramen noodles and screaming at the TV.
“All right, where the fuck is Yaroslav, you fucking imbeciles?” Antonio yells, snapping his fingers and motioning for them to come closer.
The man takes another slurp of his noodles before setting down the bowl. The other guy steadies the boxing bag before stalking toward us. I’ve never seen a motherfucker flex his muscles so much. He looks like a lame Popeye impersonator.
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask. “And where the fuck is Yaroslav?”
Noodle Fuck rubs his hands together, a sly smirk on his face.
I’ve seen enough you’ve been owned facial expressions at the casino to know a shit show is about to ensue.
“We’re here to represent Dima,” Popeye asks replies, snorting a few times.
“Where’s Yaroslav?”
The two assholes share a look and snicker.
Yes, they fucking snicker, like Antonio’s six-year-old daughter does when she steals your last fucking Oreo.
“Yaroslav is no longer boss,” Noodles says. “Dima is in charge now.” He jerks his head toward the duffel bag. “You can leave the cash with us.”
“We’re not leaving shit with you,” Damien says, snarling his lip. “Call Yaroslav or Dima and tell them to get their asses here now .”
“Or what?” Popeye mockingly shimmies his shoulders.
I don’t have time for this bullshit, so I do what every sane man does. I pull my Glock from my pants and point it at them.
Antonio and Damien do the same.
Noodles fumbles with his pants before pointing his pistol at us.
The other guy dashes over to the boxing bag, as if he left his gun there. For shit and giggles, I fire off in his direction a few times. Antonio laughs as the man hops around, dodging the bullets. I wait until my last fire before hitting him in the ankle.
“What the fuck?” he cries out, falling to the floor and cupping his ankle.
“Dima said to leave the cash,” Noodles grumbles, not even bothering to help the man now screaming in agony.
“It’s a fucking ankle wound. Relax,” Damien says in annoyance. “Dumb fucker is acting like he has an actual injury over there.”
Noodles stares at each of us as if we’re crazy and isn’t sure who to point his gun at. So, he makes a show of going one by one, over and over again. Any of the three of us could easily shoot him in a second.
“Call Dima, tell him I’m not leaving the cash and to get his ass here so we can sign this contract,” I demand, playing with my gun’s trigger and wondering how much bullshit I’d have to deal with if I just shot this fucker in the face.
Noodles scoffs, jerking his gun from Damien to me.
“You think Dima cares about a contract his father arranged?” He throws his head back, laughing like a fucking hyena.
“He’s killing all his father’s contracts.
No longer will he play nice with any of you Italian motherfuckers who think you’re better than us.
” He levels and hardens his stare on Antonio.
“That changes now. We’ll show all you bosses .
” He stops to spit at Antonio’s shoes before whipping his cold stare to me and curling his upper lip.
“You stole something from Dima, and he wants it back.”
“Call Dima and tell him we can make an arrangement,” I say, lying.
Antonio lowers his gun to fish his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling Dima myself.”
“Good luck,” Noodles says. “He won’t answer. Let’s just say, he has a new wife who’ll be entertaining him.”
I charge forward, grab the man, and ram my gun against his skull. “Where is Dima?”
Antonio strolls across the warehouse to the guy who’s still whining about his wound. He stands tall over him, shooting three shots into his head, and slams his foot into the guy’s skull.
“Start talking, or I’ll do worse with you,” he tells Noodles, aiming his gun at him.
“You won’t kill me.” Noodles seems too sure of himself. “You don’t want to start a war.”
I shoot him in the leg. “A war has already been started. Now, we need to figure out if you’ll be the next casualty of it.”
He cries out in pain, similar to how his sidekick did, but doesn’t fall on the ground.
“I won’t tell you where they took her,” he says. “I do, I die.”
“You don’t tell me right now , you also die,” I point out, shooting him in the other leg.
I inch forward so I’m in his face. “And it won’t be a fast death, like your buddy over there.
First, I’ll let one of my men torture you for hours, and then I’ll gouge one of your eyes out and let a vulture eat it in front of you before laying your organs all around the city and sending your family a map to find each of them.
” I butt my gun against his cheek. “Don’t test me. ”
His attention floats to his dead friend.
Dima set him up for death here.
He knew these men would die as soon as we realized him nor Yaroslav was coming. I know the second it dawns on this idiot, and he stumbles back a step. I do it with him, not letting my gun fall from his head.
“You help me out, I’ll make sure you live,” I offer.
“You’re lying,” Noodles says, sweat now falling down his forehead, and he keeps swallowing.
“I respect your loyalty,” Antonio says, straightening his back and lowering his gun from Noodles. He throws out his arms. “As the boss of the Lombardi family, I reward men who help me. You said you hated being treated as if you were beneath us. How about I let you join us ?”
The man’s nostrils flare, and with his shot leg, he grows weak. I hold him up, stopping him from falling.
“You’re lying,” he sputters.
Antonio jerks his head toward Damien. “You see this man here?”
“Yeah?” Noodles sways from side to side, somewhat losing consciousness.
“Jesus, have none of you been shot before?” I hiss.
Antonio slaps Damien’s shoulder. “This man here, he worked for the Marchettis. Now, I went to war with the Marchettis. He told me information I wanted to know, and instead of killing him, I made him my underboss.”
Damien nods in agreement, lowering his gun. “Best decision I ever made. Not once has he seen me as a man from the other side. I’m his equal, unlike I was with Marchetti.”
Noodles gulps a few more times.
He pays a glance to each of us, as if trying to catch one in a lie.
“What do you say?” Antonio asks with the skill of the best salesman in the world. “Join my family. Come be appreciated.”
“O-okay,” Noodles stutters out.
Damien grabs his chair, dragging it over to us, and motions for him to sit.
See how fucking nice we are.
We’re here to be your friend.
Have a seat, you piece of shit .
I kneel in front of him. “Would you like some water?”
Noodles nods, and Damien goes to the mini fridge next, pulling out a bottle of water. He uncaps it and hands it to Noodles.
He loudly gulps it down.
I kneel to Noodles’s eye level. “Now, tell us Dima’s plan.”
He squints at Antonio. “You promise to have my back?”
Antonio nods. “Scout’s fucking honor.”
“Dima … he didn’t tell me much,” Noodles starts. “He doesn’t really share much with me. Says I’m dumb, but, uh, I know Yaroslav is dead and Dima is coming for the girl.”
“What do you mean, coming for the girl ?” I grit out, spit flying with each word. My heart hammers in my chest, and I want to dig my fist into this fucker’s brain to know all the details.
“I don’t know,” he rambles. “All he said was to come here, get your money, kill you, and then he was going to get the girl.” He raises his voice, and it sounds more pleading. “That’s all I know, man!”
I shoot him in the head, annoyed and frustrated.
Damien shoots him next, as if he needed to get his anger out as well.
Antonio stalks toward him to slit his throat. “If you want to be a made man, know your fucking history, you fucking idiot. We don’t allow random motherfuckers to join our family.”
I hurriedly grab my phone from my pocket and call Genesis’s phone.
No answer.
I call it again.
No answer.
My next call is to Emilio.
“What’s up?” he answers.
“Where’s Genesis?”
“We’re at the shelter.”
“Do you have eyes on her at the shelter?”
“She left her classroom and went to the restroom.”
“Go into the restroom and get her.”
“You want me to go into the women’s restroom?” He lowers his voice. “In a place like this, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’m not about to fucking scare these women.”
“Ask another woman or Lora to go in there.”
“One sec.”
I hear conversation in the background, making out Emilio asking someone to check on Genesis.
I grab Noodles’s phone from his pocket and follow Antonio and Damien out of the warehouse.
“She’s not in the restroom,” Emilio says, now panicked. “The woman said she walked out back with another girl.”
“Go find her!” I scream into the phone.
“Already on my way!” Emilio says, and I can tell he’s running.
The three of us load into Antonio’s car, and he speeds away from the warehouse.
“Emilio!” I yell into the phone. “Do you have her?”
“No,” he huffs out. “She’s gone.”