TWENTY-SEVEN - ROMAN #2
“Six,” I corrected him. “Almost six.”
“Wow. Six already? That’s a long time.” He took another drag. “I’m impressed. You haven’t wanted to leave yet, go back home?” he asked with another exhale of smoke.
Home. Ha. I left home because I couldn’t get my shit together. This opportunity presented itself, and I took it without question.
I shrugged. “I mean, sure, I miss my brother, but you and I both know the road I was heading down. I probably wouldn’t have lived this long had I stayed there.”
“True. So, what you’re saying is I kinda saved your life?”
Seriously? Where the fuck was he going? I didn’t have time for this philosophical bullshit. I glanced down at my watch.
“Don’t worry,” he assured. “Tater knows you’re here. I told him you’d be out when I was done with you first. That fucktard can wait.”
“Where is this meeting going? Did you bring me in here to have a Hallmark moment? ’Cause we can do that out on the docks while I’m unloading.”
“Patience has never been your thing, has it?” He shook his head and laughed. “Fine, I know you’ve got shit to do, so I’ll get to it. I’m sending you back to Nashville.”
“What?” He could not be serious right now. This had to be a joke. “Nashville? I’m sorry, wh—”
“You heard me. I’m sending you home.” He smashed out his cigarette in a shit-green-colored glass ashtray that was probably twice as old as him, then flicked the crushed butt into a trash can full of smoked-up cigarettes.
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Are you fucking serious right now? What about everything here?” Panic tore through me.
I hadn’t seen or spoken to a soul in Nashville, including my own brother, who’d worked his ass off trying to keep me out of trouble, since the day I’d left.
Now, Ivan was about to send me packing back to an unfamiliar and very likely unwelcoming place.
Never mind the new life I’d established here.
“I’ll handle things on this end, no worries there.”
“Why?”
“Because. I’ve got work for you there. Work you’re better suited for.”
I always knew this was a risk. A lot of men had come and gone in this industry. Most had been offed, but a very select few had been sent on to new assignments. My dumb ass had gotten comfortable, and here I was about to get a taste of this medicine.
“You’ve been an exemplary employee, Roman. You do what you’re told when you’re told. You don’t ask questions, and you get shit done whe—”
“Then why get rid of me? Just like that?” I snapped my fingers. “Why now?”
“’Cause. You’re the only person who I trust to follow through with the orders I’m about to give you and not fuck it all up.”
“What the fuck, Ivan? I have spent every waking moment bending over backward for you and Elliott, learning the ins and outs of this business. I’ve done countless hours of shitty work because neither you nor anyone else wanted to do it.
I’ve done nothing but protect you and Elliott and the rest of the crew. I have dedicated my life to you.”
None of this was new information to him. I’d done nothing but work my ass off without question—ran drugs, moved priceless, stolen artwork, transported pallets of cash and weapons, disposed of people that wouldn’t be missed—all to prove to him and Elliott I could. I was good at my job.
Did I miss home? Some days. Did that mean I wanted to go back, especially now? Absolutely fucking not.
He took another sip of his drink, and all I wanted to do was knock that glass into his teeth.
“Yes, you have, and your dedication is greatly appreciated.”
“Prove it,” I challenged him. “Prove your appreciation for me. Let me stay. I’m better here.”
“I don’t have to prove shit to you. I’ve already got a job lined up, and I’m sure you’ll find it’ll be…well worth your time.”
At this point, nothing would be worth him shipping me away at the drop of a dime.
“How long?” I asked, holding on to a sliver of hope that this job would take just enough time for me to get in, get out, and come back here.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. Until I need you again. Could be months, could be years. Depends.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Sorry, kid. This is just the nature of this business.
Kid. I hated when he called me that, just because he had thirty-plus years on me.
“What about things here?”
“There’s been a change in plans, but before we go any further, I need you to understand one thing. All of this stays right here in this room. Not one single word of this gets breathed to anyone else outside of these four walls. Got it?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.” I guess I should be grateful he wasn’t having me wiped off the Earth. I at least get to walk away with my life…for now.
“I mean it.”
“I get it. Between us.”
“No, no, no. I don’t sense that you get it. When I say that everything I tell you stays here, I mean it stays between me and you.” His tone changed. Something about the way he spoke did not sit right with me.
Not once in the time that I’d ever done work here had Ivan ever made me swear absolute secrecy, not to him, not to anyone. Keeping quiet and not running your mouth was one of those understood rules, regardless.
Besides, I’d learned who and who not to talk to over the years—I knew the ranks.
Elliott was king shit. He made all the rules.
Ivan took orders from Elliott, who then passed orders on to me or one of his other guys, depending on the job.
Even still, Ivan was not in a position to make or give his own orders, which was exactly what this was, and I didn’t like it.
“I got it. Just me and you.”
“I fucking mean it, Roman. You and me. I better not find out you’ve talked to anyone. I know how some folks around here like ta run their mouths. Just fucking yipping and yapping like a buncha women at the hair salon. Don’t be one of ’em. I will find out.”
“Just you and me,” I repeated. I let out a frustrated breath. “What if I don’t agree to your proposition?”
He smirked. “Here’s the deal, and you’re probably not going to like this, but this isn’t a proposition. These are orders. I’m not exactly giving you an option. Well, I guess that all depends on how you look at things.”
I just stared at him, dumbfounded and seething inside. “What would my choices be if I were to see things differently?”
“Your options are take this assignment, follow through, start fresh, and you’ll be set for life.”
“Again, if I don’t?”
He shrugged. “You disappear regardless.”
“Is that a threat?” I’d spent a lot of years keeping this piece of shit alive. Now he wanted to make me disappear?
He popped his neck. Mind if I help you? “I don’t make threats. I set boundaries.”
I’d been around this place long enough to know that regardless of the time I’d put in here, I wasn’t immune to the rules. I just didn’t like that I’d somehow become the one in the hot seat…or that now I had to leave, no questions, no goodbyes.
I also knew I wasn’t quite ready to sign my own death certificate. But I’d seen this play out before with other men who worked for Emerald Haze.
Fuck.
“Well, what’s it gonna be, kid?” I always questioned whether or not I could trust him.
This just tipped the scale and solidified my opinion.
“I can tell you this.” He took a long pull at his freshly lit cigarette and continued.
“You’re gonna be set for life. I admire you, you know. You’re a smart kid, Roman.”
“Then why me? Why not some other pissant working for Elliott.”
“Because, Roman, you’re the best man I got with the skills I need for this specific job.”
Great. I had two choices: refuse his orders and risk dying now in this smoke-filled office or agree and probably die later but with benefits.
“Fine,” I finally conceded. I had other shit to do at the moment. Sitting here wasn’t one of them. It was time to buckle up and accept my fate. “Lay it on me.”
He clapped his hands together. “I knew you’d make the right choice. Do you know how difficult it is to get rid of a body these days?”
“Very,” I replied dryly. Had he forgotten everything I’d done for him over the years? “Can we wrap this up? Some of us have to work.”
He cut his gaze at me. “Absolutely. Here’s what I need from you.
” He continued to talk, raking over the details of this job that he needed me to do.
Halfway through, I’d zoned out, only catching about every third word that fell through his lips due to the ringing in my ears.
By the time he’d finished babbling, I was sick as fuck to my stomach, ready to put a bullet in my own skull.
“That’s it,” he said. “Tomorrow night. I need you at this address.” He slid a scrap piece of paper across his desk to me.
“Sharp. When I tell you don’t be late, don’t be early.
This—” He tapped his fat, gold-ring-clad finger into the time written on the white scrap of paper below the address.
“—is when you need to be there. Capiche?”
I bit into the inside of my lip to keep myself from arguing back. It wouldn’t do any good. “Yeah. Capiche.”
“Good. Now, let’s get you back to work before Tater thinks he’s going to rip me a new asshole for keeping you too long,” he laughed as he stood up; I couldn’t feel my own legs anymore. “Remember, you and me, nobody else.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “We’re gonna miss you around here.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m not going to miss a single goddamned soul within a five-hundred-mile radius of this casino.”
He shook his head. “Yeah, sure, kid.”
THE NEXT NIGHT
I killed the lights on my new Arc Vector—a parting gift from Ivan— as I rolled up to the address he’d given me at the exact time he’d instructed.
He’d so graciously given me an all-electric motorcycle, one for its speed, and two, because it didn’t have an engine and made no sounds.
This thing had probably cost more than half the homes in Memphis.
His black Bugatti was parked a few hundred feet down the street and just around the corner at the edge of hole seven of a golf course, the front bumper barely visible from where I sat.