Chapter Forty-Seven Tom
Chapter Forty-Seven
Tom
“We found the Russian.” Zeke appeared at my door like a pissed-off mirage, crossing his arms over his chest.
It had been three days since the FBI arrested fifteen Bratva members and confiscated a hundred kilograms of cocaine.
Three days since Slava disappeared without a trace.
Three days since Enzo told me he needed time.
Three days in which I’d spent every waking moment covering my tracks and making sure there would be no blowback either to me or the Camorra.
Sprawling in my seat, I lifted a contemplative eyebrow. “Dead or alive?”
“The former. They really did a number on him.” Zeke pushed off the doorframe, entering my domain. “Had the word traitor carved onto his skin. Some body parts ripped apart. No lower jaw. Crime scene was a mess.”
“A mess you decided not to include me in?” I asked carefully. I should’ve been the first call to the scene. The fact that I hadn’t been made the hairs rise over my skin.
“It’s technically homicide, so not our jurisdiction.”
“Who’s leading the case?”
“Detective Ramirez.”
“I’ll ask him to share the file with me.”
“He won’t do it.”
The silence that followed echoed around the room.
“He doesn’t trust you, Rothwell.” Zeke’s tone held menace and authority. “And he’s not the only one.”
The words detonated like a bullet in my chest. I embraced the pain, knowing I deserved it. Setting my pen down, I said, “It’s probably Alexei Rasputin retaliating for the betrayal.”
“Our analysts think it’s Camorra work. Specifically, the baby brother. Achilles prolongs and Luca rushes through his kills impersonally. Enzo, however, makes it his little art project. He kills with the panache of someone who loves playing with corpses.”
He studied me seriously, waiting for a response that didn’t come.
“Interesting that you’ve decided the one who flays his victims is the most likely to be rehabilitated and is suitable to participate in public life.”
He was met with more silence.
“Because all of our profilers are in agreement that Vincenzo Ferrante is the most dangerous out of the three brothers, due to his ability to conceal his devious tendencies. His charisma and charm outweigh all his other psychotic traits, making him indeed very easy to like.” He waited a beat, scanning me with shrewd eyes. “Almost very easy to…love.”
What did he want me to say? That I was in love with a monster?
That the Flayer of Manhattan had me in a chokehold, but damn if oxygen wasn’t overrated?
We engaged in a stare-off. Zeke’s eyes demanded a confession. Mine told him to fuck all the way off.
“I told you Alex is tight with the brother-in-law,” I said tonelessly, ignoring his heartfelt speech.
In order to justify the Camorra not showing up at the port, I’d cited Tiernan as the Ferrante mole.
It made sense. His loyalties were with the Camorra and his wife, but he was tight with all the Rasputin brothers.
Enough that he could learn about Slava’s betrayal all by himself.
“The bureau thinks otherwise.”
“Nobody knows this case as well as me.”
“Agreed.” An exasperated note wove through his tone. “In fact, it appears this case has become too personal for you.”
I bowed my head, feeling like a piece of shit for dragging him into my mess.
“The case is dead,” he said.
“I’m well aware.”
“I had imagined you’d be more torn up about it.”
“Would you like me to cry into a pillow with Taking Back Sunday playing in the background?” I inquired deprecatingly.
“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t put it past you. Can I sit down?”
Zeke wasn’t one to ask for permission. My hackles rose further, the sour taste of danger flooding my mouth. I minimized the file on my computer screen and straightened. I thought I’d been careful so far, but maybe I missed something. Maybe it was the end of the road for me as a free man.
“Have at it.”
He sat in front of me, staring me down for a long while before saying, “I don’t think I have to tell you, Tom, the Rasputin-Ferrante operation was a botch job.
From start to finish, there were errors even probies wouldn’t make.
And you’re not a minted agent. You’re an SSA.
One of my finest. Yet you made my department look like a joke. ”
My jaw twitched, but I kept quiet.
“Arresting the Russian soldiers, letting Slava disappear, offering the enforcer a plea deal without any real valuable information and somehow convincing the DOJ his immunity held merit…”
I’d known all along there would be holes in my plan to save Enzo, but I’d done what I could to minimize them. That still left me looking like an incompetent idiot. But I never thought I’d reached the status of actual recreant.
“What am I facing here?” I asked matter-of-factly.
Zeke’s eyebrows jumped up. “Aren’t you going to defend yourself?”
“No.” I laced my fingers together. I would go down and face complete ruination, as long as I could save him. “What does the bureau want to do with me?”
“It behooves us to conduct a thorough investigation to determine what went wrong, of course.”
“Of course,” I repeated blandly.
“We’re putting you on paid leave until we’re done investigating the operation and your performance, against the standard protocol.”
This could mean anything. Prison time, getting fired, blacklisted, all three, or none at all.
“I understand.” And I did. Zeke’s reaction was, as always, spotless.
“It’d be good if you give us your version of things,” he added. “Your partner has been testifying against you. Sully is—”
“A fucking bully,” I finished for him. “Who assaulted Enzo Ferrante and has a drinking problem that can no longer be overlooked by the bureau, as indicated in the official complaint I filed after he made a joke about having Enzo raped in prison. He’s barely functioning at this point.”
Zeke opened his mouth, clamped it shut, then opened it again. “What’s the story between you and Enzo Ferrante?”
I acted like I hadn’t heard him, sick with guilt.
This was Zeke.
Zeke, who’d fought shoulder to shoulder with me on the battlefield. Zeke, who’d dragged me out of bed after Matt passed away and all I could do was stare at the ceiling and will time to rush by until it was my turn to die.
He ran a hand over his bald head, sighing. “Look, the more I know, the more I can help you. I am currently Zeke, your friend, not Zeke, your superior.” He licked his lips. “It looks bad, Tom. Let me help. What’s going on with you and the enforcer?”
“I’m in love with him.”
The words tore from my mouth without permission, but I was glad they were finally out in the open. It had killed me to keep them inside, so heavy and suffocating against my sternum.
Zeke’s expression did not change. I realized he was not surprised at all.
“Does he love you back?”
“Yes.” Fuck, I hope so.
“How could you let it happen?”
“I didn’t,” I said. “He went ahead and snatched my heart anyway. I never granted him permission.”
Zeke pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. “Oh, Tom.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I—”
“I’m so fucking happy for you.” He smiled big. I paused, staring at him in shock.
My throat dried up. I worked around a swallow. “I… Wait, what?”
“That boy brought you back to life when I didn’t believe anything could anymore. I’ve missed the man you were before what happened with Matt. I need to meet him properly.”
“Zeke, I—”
“Not another word,” he cut me off brutally, refusing to hear more. “This is the first time, yes?”
“Of course.” I’d never done anything to compromise the bureau before.
“Then it is settled. He saved my best friend in ways I never could, even on the battlefield. I reckon we can spare his life.” He nodded, slapping his thigh. “So when am I meeting him?”
I was stunned by his easy sacrifice, though I would gladly return the favor if the roles were reversed. Something about looking death in the eye together had entwined Zeke and I in ways a stranger wouldn’t understand.
“That’s gonna have to wait until things cool down.”
“That goes without saying.” He waved a hand at me, standing. “In the meantime, lie low, lawyer up, don’t talk to anyone, and make sure not to be seen with any of the Ferrantes.”
“Don’t do anything stupid to save me,” I warned.
“Why?” He smiled warmly. “You’ve done stupid things to save me. Uruzgan, 2014. Remember?”
I had saved him on the field that day, in the trenches, under fire.
Dragged him, fatally injured and barely conscious, to a makeshift shelter until we were found.
Yelled at him to stay alive, or Denise and the girls would never forgive him.
I’d bargained and threatened and made stupid jokes.
Kept him awake while death hovered above him.
I had risked my life to save his, and though that was many moons ago, at our core, we were still the same people, who shared a very dangerous trait: We were loyal to the point of stupidity.
Men you could depend on when things went to shit.
I stared at my hands, feeling too much to let Zeke see what was playing on my face. “I… Thank you.”
“No problem. Now grab your shit and get the hell out. Save us both the embarrassment of your being escorted out of the building.”
Thirty minutes later, I exited my office carrying one cardboard box with my most important belongings—phone, charger, a picture of Grams, a letter Silas had written me for a literacy project, and a baseball signed by Jacob deGrom.
Sully watched me from his office as I left.
I flipped him the bird without breaking my stride.
When I got into my car, I pulled out my phone.
I decided not to tell Enzo about my imminent redundancy.
Didn’t want him to feel bad for me or obligated to shorten the timeframe he needed to be ready for our relationship.
And, above all, I didn’t want him feeling guilty.
Because he’d never asked for any of this.
It was my choice to shit on my career to save his ass.
I’d walked into this with eyes wide open.
Plus, given the chance, I wouldn’t change a thing.
There was a new text message from him. I opened it.
Butterfly: Did you smile today?
Me: Not yet.
Butterfly: Do you want to?
Me: Always.
Me: Is this…?
Butterfly: Yeah. I bought lingerie to seduce you with for when we finally reunite.
Me: It’s just…a footlong sour rainbow?
Butterfly: Right. As I said. Lingerie.
Me: You’re deranged.
Butterfly: That’s such a weird way of saying you love me.
Me: I do love you.
Butterfly: I love you too, baby. Go back to work. I have therapy in half an hour.
Me: Break a leg.
Butterfly: Already did earlier bc dude refused to pay back a loan. Can you believe the audacity of some people?
Me: Goodbye, Enzo.
Butterfly: I hope you’re not allergic to peanuts bc there’s also a piece of chewable lingerie I think you’ll appreciate. x
I barked out a laugh.
Losing my job was a price worth paying.
As long as I had him.