2. Andre
ANDRE
T he warehouse was bustling as workers called out to their colleagues as they moved pallets with machinery. The large garage doors were lifted all the way up as they sorted the goods into different piles, readying them to be shipped.
We’d landed on a private strip in the town over and drove up just in case Vicente’s men had it overrun.
Next to me, Grey punched the dashboard. “God dammit!” he growled.
I knew exactly what he meant as I swallowed hard. My contact inside the mansion had said Vicente was headed to one of Lafe’s warehouses. Lafe had four, but my contact had no other information outside of that.
We took a shot in the dark, assuming Lafe was heading to meet Vicente, although why was that a fucking question.
Vicente was setting a trap. Lafe would know it as I did, especially after targeting Grey’s hotel.
My little brother hated his faction of the Institution.
Why would he care enough to try and save it?
“They’re not here.” I ground my teeth as I watched absolute normalcy unfold at the warehouse.
None of Vicente’s guards were here. Only those wearing the brown uniforms of this specific warehouse were stationed around the perimeter.
Each had a military-grade weapon clutched in front of them and a black strap diagonal over their backs.
One guy noticed me, and when his eyes widened, I knew he recognized who I was. He waved to two other men before approaching.
I rolled the window down and gripped the gun in my lap. Just because it appeared nothing was going on, didn’t mean there wasn’t something happening behind the scenes.
Doubtful, but I needed to keep my mind sharp. Plus, Vicente never made anything easy.
“Sirs.” The guard dipped his head and moved his finger off of the trigger.
“Any issues today?” I forced my jaw to relax. The last thing we needed was to set this place on edge for no reason.
“None. Everything is running smoothly.” He glanced back at the old building and cut his eyes at me. “Anything we should be concerned with?”
I shook my head even as Grey grunted next to me.
The bastard was not capable of blending in when his anger was riding his ass.
“If you get any visitors, any at all, call my cell.” I waited for him to pull his cell out, then calmly gave him the digits to my burner.
“Pass that around. There’s no trouble, but there might be. What’s your name?”
“Roberto,” he said, lowering his gaze to the car door.
“Thanks, Roberto. Call me if there’s any trouble.”
I didn’t wait for any acknowledgement from him as I rolled up the window and threw the car in reverse. The tires squealed as I did a half circle and raced back toward the chopper. This was fucking pointless. We wasted hours coming here, and for what?
“Son of a bitch!” I yelled to purge the rising frustration out of my system.
I grabbed my burner and called Stephan back. The phone clicked before he answered, giving me some random assed greeting. “The day is young, my friends.”
“Fuck off.” I pulled in a controlled breath through my nose. “I need more information. Neither Lafe nor Vicente is at the warehouse in Peru. Your intel was wrong.”
Stephan cursed. “That intel isn’t wrong. Vicente is done playing around with you four. He’s targeting each of you in a way he thinks will make you break apart. Grey’s hotel, because he’s psycho over that place. Lafe’s warehouse—”
“Stop! It’s no secret Lafe hates that damn business.
Anyone who has seen him at work for five minutes knows he’d rather be anywhere else.
Do anything else. Vicente has known for years, but he gets a sick satisfaction from forcing him to do it.
And unfortunately for Lafe, he excels at it.
” My chest rose and fell too fast for my liking, but there was zero I could do about this shit right now, and the stress was ratcheting up all of my responses.
“Look.” Rustling, then the sound of a door closing met my ear.
When he continued, it was almost a whisper.
“I don’t know your brother. Any of them, outside of you.
All I can tell you, is that Vicente was in a vile mood the last few days.
He wants to hit you where it hurts. My man in his circle said he was going to Lafe’s warehouse.
That was this morning, maybe around dawn.
I can’t tell you anything else. But if you think that’s not the way he’d hit Lafe, think about why he would go to the warehouse in the first place. ”
I grunted as Stephan ended the call.
Next to me, Grey stewed in his fucking limited emotions as I parked and jumped out. The small, confined space of the SUV was too much. I needed room to think and wouldn’t be able to get anything done in that cramped cab.
Pulling at my hair, I paced back and forth in front of the chopper. I should be getting it prepped and checking it over before hopping back in it, but I didn’t even know where to go.
What was the point of going to a warehouse?
There were four. I picked the closest one because it was also the closest to the Mansion.
A shit call. But how did I decide the next place?
It would be two days before we could visit them all, assuming Vicente wouldn’t head to the US and draw Lafe in to save his runners and dealers.
Not that it would work. I didn’t see any reason Lafe would drop everything and meet Vicente. There had to be some kind of catch. Something he was holding over Lafe that would make the bastard feel compelled to join him. But what the fuck was it?
The only time I’d ever seen Lafe lose it so recklessly was when we were younger, and he tried to save that girl. He hadn’t even fucking known her.
Yet, there were no circumstances that would have him rushing in to save other men in the Institution, whether they worked for him or not. Did Vicente threaten to burn the product? That would make Lafe scramble. But Vicente wouldn’t kill his opportunity for profit like that.
Grey’s door slammed shut, and he rounded the front of the vehicle with murder in his eyes.
“What the fuck are we going to do?” He tossed out a hand toward the chopper like that was going to solve all our goddamn problems.
“I don’t fucking know!” I shouted back, curling my fingers in my hair.
The slight bit of pain helped me focus. “My contact only knows that Vicente wants to get to Lafe, and he went to the warehouse in order to do that. Only there are four damn warehouses.” I stared down at the burner in my hand.
“I need better intel. Someone who knows how to track,” I muttered.
“What good are your shit people if they can’t even tell you where Vicente is?” Grey glared at the skyline like he’d find the answers. Or, probably more appropriately, he was thinking about rushing off to his hotel. He told his men he’d come to help, but we raced off to find Lafe instead.
“Hold on, I have one other contact I can reach out to.” I knew the number by heart, even though I’d only met the man once in passing on one of my trips to the US.
The Reed family was one of the heavy hitters in the crime world, although this guy was the black sheep, trying to make his own name in the Network.
From what I’d heard, he was damn good at it, with all the right connections and none of the arrogance to go with the name. In a different life, we could have been friends. In this one, he at least served a purpose; as long as his burner hadn’t changed.
“You’ve reached Jello Gelatin. How can I serve all your pleasures today?” A too chipper voice crowed.
Grey’s brow furrowed and he bared his teeth in irritation.
“Reed.”
As I was pulling in some air to tell him exactly what I needed, he cut me off.
“I much prefer Fletcher. Or sex god. Whatever works best for you. Who the hell is this again?” Furious typing almost overshadowed his words.
“This is Andre Medina. We met a few—”
“Ah yes, one of the shining apples in the cartel’s eyes,” he said absentmindedly.
“Listen to me,” I punctuated each word with the seriousness of the situation. “My brother is missing, and I need a location on him.”
“Mmm… That will cost ya. What’s in it for me?”
My nostrils flared. Nothing was ever easy.
“What do you want?” The question was ripped from my throat.
I hated favors. I preferred to collect them, not that they’d done me any good with this mess in the Institution.
Before he could ask for an IOU, I tried to dangle something else in his face that would be just as enticing without an open-ended request. “How about ringside seats to one of the fights the next time we’re in the States.
” I really fucking hoped he hadn’t heard about Hielo.
“Or… if there’s an item that you’ve had your eye on, our men can retrieve it.
Those are two things that my brothers never barter. ”
He hummed in appreciation as he continued typing. “That’s very tempting. I see what you did there. Leaving it open for me to choose but without giving me much room to dictate the rules. I like the way you work. I bet my little family would like you too.”
“You don’t like your family.”
He scoffed. “Not that one. My real family. I accept, just because you caught me at a slow time, and I could use something to pass the day away. I say ringside seats. My…I can’t actually call her my minion…my lover would enjoy the surprise.”
Grey’s eyes sharpened at the mention of the seats. He was seconds away from blowing, and I needed to wrap this up. The only thing that helped Grey when he got this angry was a good fight. Unfortunately, I was the only one around and we had shit to do.
I opened my mouth to give him the information he’d hopefully need when a text came through.
Parker: Brother is having fun with dear old dad in Brazil. Thought you should know. I’m on it.
“Argh!” I yelled, gripping the phone so tight the screen cracked. Shit, that was inconvenient, but we had a stockpile of spares at the compound.
“I’m guessing you might not need my services anymore?” Fletcher sighed, sounding legitimately put out. “I’m never the one with the really cool date ideas.”
“I don’t need you right now, but I might for another time. I’ll let you know when we’re in the US, and we’ll call this an advanced payment.” Because what the fuck did seats matter. They were no skin off our backs.
We hung up, and I rushed around the chopper starting the checks. “Keep your shit together, we know where Lafe is.” I tried to call Parker, but the fucker turned his phone off. I tried to call Anton and his rang once, then I was sent to voicemail.
“Anton, if you’re with my asshole brother, you need to stall him until we get there. Going in to save Lafe alone is a suicide mission.”
Grey didn’t give me any issues as we got ready. Shit, it would take us almost three hours to get to the warehouse in Brazil. Depending on where Parker was, because even if Anton tried to stop him, he’d fail. And Parker would get there before us.
I tried to call Parker again. When he didn’t answer, I sent him a text.
Me: If you run in there without backup, you’re out. You can go live with Mia wherever the fuck she’s staying, or with some other bitch. I don’t care. WAIT FOR US.
As we loaded up, Grey’s gaze followed all of my movements. “Anton’s not going to be able to stop him.”
“I know.”
“We’re going to lose two brothers, because Vicente won’t let it stand that Parker burned his club down.”
“I know!”
He pulled out his phone and placed it on speaker. Blanca picked up.
“Yes?” Her voice was timid and breathing was too fast, like she expected this call to blow up in her face.
“Where’s Anton?”
“He just left with Parker,” she whispered.
"Fuck!” I cursed. If they were at the compound, they would arrive at least thirty minutes ahead of us.
“Let me talk to Amorette,” Grey demanded, his face set with harsh lines.
The line went silent. Completely fucking silent.
“Let. Me. Talk. To. Amorette.” Grey was losing his cool, and Blanca wouldn’t like the results when he returned to the compound.
“She went with them.” The words were torn from her lips as if it genuinely pained her to say that.
“Repeat that,” I said calmly, feeling none of the fucking calm I’d injected into my voice.
“She’s with Parker and Anton.”
“Son of a fucking bitch!” I pounded my fist into my thigh several times. I couldn’t damage the chopper, or we’d never get there in time. Hell, we might not get there anyway.
“Please don’t kick us out! It wasn’t our call! Parker is in charge!”
“Not for fucking long. Not for fucking long at all.”
Grey hung up, and we lifted off the ground, full of grim determination more than irrational anger. I had a feeling it didn’t matter when we got there. If Vicente got his hands on two of my brothers and Amorette? Game over.