30. Lafe
LAFE
E verything Grey said into the phone was like garbled music. I couldn’t understand a word after he dropped that bomb.
Vicente burned down Grey’s hotel. Because of Parker.
Everything I’d ever been afraid of was happening. All these years, I’d hated everything about the Institution. I’d even hated myself. And for what?
We weren’t even in our thirties, and Vicente turned on us. Andre had us hiding out here at the compound because his men were looking for us. There was practically a bounty on our heads.
Parker was right. We should have gotten out of this life years ago. Fled to the US or something. I could have gone to Sweden to see my mom’s family. Assuming they’d want to see me.
Hell, they could look at me as the reason that they lost their daughter and sister.
My phone went off. Not the one I used for my brothers, but the one Vicente always used for enforcer jobs.
I ran back, leaving Grey in the hallway. My door had been left ajar, and I slammed it shut, so Grey didn’t follow me. I doubted he would. He had enough to worry about if the hotel was burning.
The burner was in the corner of the kitchen and went off again as I approached it. My heart tumbled over and over inside my chest like it was stuck in the dryer. It beat wildly but seemed to flip with each breath.
My hands were sweaty, and I swiped them on my pants.
This wasn’t a coincidence. If Parker had really retaliated by burning down one of his clubs, he wouldn’t stop at Grey’s hotel. He would target each of us for fun.
Andre and Grey had both been certain that Vicente was after us because of Parker’s efforts to break away.
I wasn’t convinced. He was a psychopath.
Turning on us, turning the institution against us, was a hell of a good time for him.
If Maikel wasn’t such a lap dog, he would have killed him years ago.
Hell, Vicente could be threatened by the small army we’d amassed for ourselves. It was no secret that we lived in a fortress with our own men not associated with the Institution.
I wasn’t sure we’d ever find out the real reason he wanted us dead.
That irritating metal chime went off again. That was three, maybe four messages.
He could be taunting me with my men. Or one of my suppliers. It could be any number of threats.
Making the split-second decision to rip the band aid off, I picked up the phone and opened the screen.
It was worse than anything I could have ever imagined.
It was a picture of Amorette.
No.
It was her twin. At a photoshoot.
She was dressed in a classy suit with bold sunglasses in the golden hour. She was so different from Killer. Softer. Sassier maybe.
Hanging industrial lights were scattered overhead, and a large camera was discarded on the table behind her. This had to be taken during the shoot but from a different angle.
And it was on my burner phone from Vicente.
Looks like you were the one to bring the weakness to my house.
And there are two. Are you going to save her too?
The location drop was my warehouse in Brazil. Fuck. That’s where most of the product was made and stored. Was the warehouse even mine? Did I even still need to do this business anymore if Vicente was pushing us out?
For a moment, I let that thought sink in. Running drugs for Vicente had become my entire identity. If I stopped, what would I be?
Alive?
I couldn’t stay here and fuck it all while Vicente had Amorette’s twin. She already hated me, but if I let her sister be taken…I couldn’t stomach the look that would be on her face when we had to tell her where Grace was.
I wouldn’t be able to do it. Fucking Andre could do it. He was good at making hard decisions for people and destroying their lives.
" Helvete ,” I muttered and pressed the meat of my palms into my eyes. I needed sleep. And food. My current state would get me killed.
Fuck.
Parker was gone.
If I went to Andre, he’d ban me from leaving.
Grey…Grey might help. But if it came down to saving Grace or keeping Amorette, he’d choose to keep her.
Not giving myself time to second guess my decision, I snagged the shoes under the couch and roughly stuffed my feet in them. I grabbed my other phone and ran out the door.
Yelling was coming from Andre’s apartment. About…
Shit—I tripped over my feet.
Andre… Andre fucked Amorette.
I wasn’t prepared for the way that would punch me in the stomach. He wasn’t even nice to her.
But I hadn’t been either.
No, I needed to focus. Otherwise, Andre would put the island on lockdown. I could do this one thing.
I couldn’t save her years ago. And that had stolen a piece of my humanity.
What I could do was save Grace for Amorette. If Vicente took me out after…that would be a mercy.
A few guards shouted to me when I burst through the glass doors. I waved them away and headed for the pad.
That was empty.
Fuck!
There was the plane. That would work. It was a couple of hours' flight, anyway. I pivoted and headed toward the plane. We had a few, and the one I needed was a small two-person Mach business jet. It was much smaller than our other plane, but one person could easily fly this one.
I’d have room to get Grace out too.
But I wouldn’t bring her back here. I think Amorette would almost hate that as much as her being in Vicente’s hands.
A few soldiers watched from a distance. Some called to each other on their radios, but no one moved to stop me.
Good. Either Andre hadn’t given the lockdown order yet, or they were too afraid to stop the junkie brother.
Starting cold, I’d be lucky to get the plane off the ground in an hour. Usually, it took two. Yet as I raced around doing my checks, no one approached. None of my brothers called my phone. They didn’t know what Vicente had done.
Or at least not this one act.
I wanted to be thankful. So much could go wrong if he messaged any of them the same picture he’d sent me. But all I had in me right then was an unhealthy level of fear and adrenaline.
Finally, after fifty-one minutes, I was off the ground. Once I was coasting, I opened the burner and looked at the photo of Grace again.
She was Amorette’s entire world.
I couldn’t—wouldn’t let her lose this last piece of herself.
I wouldn’t do to her what Andre did to me.
* * *
The landing strip was on the property, allowing me a good look at the place as I circled around for landing.
This warehouse had been part of the drug business long before I took it over, and about five local families worked in the lab.
They were compensated handsomely by my company, or by Vicente, if you chose to look at it that way.
No fires were sprouting out of the windows. None of Vicente’s men were patrolling the roof. The only oddity was how empty it seemed to be.
After I landed the plane, I armed myself from the stash we always kept onboard. Scanning my surroundings, I pulled my gun out and pointed it at the ground. I had another in the back holster, a knife inside my jeans, and one strapped to my ankle.
This was a suicide mission, but I couldn’t walk in empty-handed.
Still, no one came out to greet me.
At any other time, a guard would have been working the tower next to the strip. Guards would have come out to meet me and check my business here. Even if they recognized the plane, they would have come to check on why I’d make a surprise appearance.
Blowing out a breath, I pressed my ear to the door while looking right at the security camera. The light burned bright red, signaling it was turned on. I didn’t smile. I didn’t try to mouth any words. I glared and flipped my middle finger.
I hoped Vicente was at the monitor station to see exactly how much I hated him. He wouldn’t care. But I’d get a tiny bit of satisfaction from it. Andre had never let us show so much to him in the past.
It didn’t matter anymore.
I wanted him to know how much I loathed him. If he could know a taste of the hate I had for him, I’d die happy.
No sounds traveled through the door. It was eerily quiet on the other side. The usual sounds of people coming and going and the typical sounds of manufacturing were all missing.
It was a ghost town.
I twisted the handle, and it opened easily. Also wrong.
The Garcias always had the locks engaged and required a badge.
Inside the lobby, papers were scattered over the floor, and some of the equipment was turned over. Not a single sign of life.
Moving deeper into the warehouse, I cased all the hallways before stepping in, checking rooms as I went by. The feeling that I’d been incredibly stupid coming here pressed harder and harder against my temples.
This was a trap.
I knew it with certainty as I reached the end of the last hallway, and no one came into sight.
There was no blood, no signs of a struggle.
Just one giant mess like a hurricane had blown through years ago.
In the last office, a coffee mug was turned over and the coffee was dried to the floor like it happened at least a day ago. Maybe more.
A loud bang traveled through the warehouse as if someone had entered and they weren’t being discreet.
Fuck.
I pulled the small canister out, twisted the lid, and snorted the powder right off the prong. Then took another hit just for good measure.
My nose tingled, and I sniffed again for good measure as I put the canister away. How did I forget to do that before I left the compound?
“Lafe!” Maikel called. What was he doing here? Vicente never trusted him, not for enforcer jobs.
But maybe he was feeling the pressure if we weren’t there to pick up the slack. Slim pickings.
He had to be the one to tell Vicente that I had taken Amorette. Was it worth it to leak how he skimmed off the top of Vicente’s profits? Or offered favors that weren’t his to give?
Only if Vicente was here.
I slowly walked back to the entrance where Maikel was whistling and banging stuff around. It sounded like he was swinging a bat into the shelves and counters.
“I know you’re here! We saw you on the cameras.” He was too cheery. But he’d said we. Someone else was here too. If it were Vicente, I’d blow his shit wide open.
“You such a soft prick. How’d you hide that all these years?” Maikel called, sounding amused more than curious. “Vicente was quite disappointed, you know. He always favored Parker the most. Even with his idiocy, the boy has plans. He admires that. But he thought you had more grit than this.”
I peered around the doorframe to the lobby. Maikel had his back turned to me with a sledgehammer over his shoulder. Two men stood at the doors and watched the outside.
Suddenly, a palm landed between my shoulder blades and rammed me forward. I grunted as I fell into the lobby, my gun coasting across the tile floor.
Maikel stopped it by stepping on it with his designer loafer.
When I brought my gaze up his suit-clad body to his face, he grinned down at me.
“Gotcha.”