Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
He stops his story. I know where this is going. He told me a thousand times: never, ever, ever let partners get caught. If there’s absolutely no other choice and everyone’s running, that’s one thing. At that point, it’s every man for himself.
But you don’t fuck over your crew. A thief that lets his crew get thrown in jail won’t stay a thief for long. Nobody wants to work with a guy like that.
And most thieves have friends, and most friends like revenge.
“They think you set the fire,” I say softly.
He nods, looking miserable. “It’s the fucking Los Sombras cartel. They’re the ones bankrolling the operation. If I had known from the start, I never would’ve touched the job, but Marcus swore he was running it alone. Motherfucker screwed me. The other guys got pinched, and they didn’t roll on me, but they did tell their friends on the outside what happened. And they made it very clear that I’m the reason they’re all in prison.”
“Oh, shit, Brenden,” I say with real sympathy.
“I know.” He musters a smile and gestures at his face. “Now you know why this isn’t a big deal.”
I nod slowly.
What he means is a little beating is nothing compared to what they’re going to do to him.
“Why haven’t they, you know—” I gesture at him.
“Killed me yet? They think I have the money still, and they want that before they put me in the ground.”
“Do you?”
He shakes his head. “If I did, I’d be gone. You think I’d come back here? I thought maybe Liam might protect me, but you know how it goes. If you take outside work and that work blows up in your face, it’s all on you.”
“Shit.” I stand up and stomp around the kitchen, pacing again. I can’t help myself. I can’t stay still when I’m all emotional like this. “Shit, shit, shit. That fucker Liam.”
“Come on, Riley, don’t be like that. We both know he’s not going to war with the cartel over me even if that wasn’t the policy.” He smiles weakly. “I’ll figure out how to handle this.”
We both know that’s bullshit.
If Los Sombras wants him dead, then he’s dead. I can’t say I know a ton about them, but that’s because nobody does. They’re mysterious, like the shadows in their name, the sombras. If they say Brenden has to die, then he’s going to die.
Only they’ll torture him first. Beating after beating after beating, until it escalates. They won’t stop until he gives them the money, whether he has it or not.
And then he’s still dead.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” I sit down heavily across from him again. I want to throw myself around the room. I want to break dishes.
I’m tempted to tell him about Mantis, but I don’t need him stressing about me.
Funny though, how we’re both fucked in different ways.
All thanks to our thieving.
“I told you, I’ll figure it out. Los Sombras isn’t as bad as everyone pretends. It’s just a reputation thing.” He smiles, trying to act brave.
I don’t believe it for a second.
“You need to tell someone. We need to help you. Maybe Alexan and the Brotherhood—”
“Won’t stick their neck out for some random Irish guy, brother-in-law or not.” He stands with a grunt and carries the plates to the sink. “Come on, Riles. Let’s hang out for a little while and act like shit’s normal, okay?”
“Brenden—”
“Seriously, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Come for a walk with me. Moving around will help with my injuries.”
I want to rage at him. I want to tell him to run away. But Los Sombras will follow, and they’ll leave a trail of death in their wake.
I feel small and powerless. My world is crumbling all around me. Brenden, Alexan, Mantis, Los Sombras. It’s all conspiring to take away the things I care about most.
“Yeah, alright, let’s go for a walk.” I force myself to my feet again. This time, I do my best to smile for him. “Bet you can’t even make it around the block.”
He stretches his back. “I’m not as bad as I look.”
“Bet you’re worse.”
“Let’s go then, smartass.”
I follow him to the door. We head out into the sunshine together. I let him set our pace as we amble around slowly, talking about light and easy things, while everything heavy remains weighing down my back, threatening to crush me.
Chapter 27
Riley
Cass looks around the house. “I love this freakish place,” she says, clapping her hands together.
“Freakish?” I pour her a glass of wine. I’m about to get myself one, but I hesitate and decide to skip it. Cass doesn’t comment on my sobriety when I grab some seltzer water instead. “What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s like no stuff anywhere. And we both know you’re a stuff girl.”
She’s got a point. “I brought pillows.” I gesture at a pile of throws at the end of the couch stacked in a very neat pile.