Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72325 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72325 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
To my surprise, neither Rocco nor Julian would make that promise.
“Seriously? I’m the voice of fucking reason here?” I let out a long exhale. “All right. Since you two can’t trust yourself to keep your dicks in your pants, I’ll do it. I promise you, I won’t touch her.”
Not touching Maggie was a fucking shame. But losing Maggie altogether was downright tragic.
“Sounds like a plan.” Rocco unlocked his car. “I’ll call you after we’ve had a chat with Connors.”
“Okay.”
Heading back to my car, I was half tempted to go back and switch with one of them. Beating information out of Connors sounded like a lot more fun than watching over Maggie without her knowing. That meant spending endless hours in my car, drinking about half a gallon of coffee to stay awake.
Still, it had to be done. It was the only way to make sure Maggie was safe.
For now, that was. Long term, I had a feeling that was going to be a difficult job.
19
JULIAN
“I don’t like having to do this,” Rocco said. We were drawing closer to Connors’ place and hadn’t spoken much up until now.
The thing was, I knew what Rock meant. We knew Connors. He’d been on the family’s payroll since before we were even born. Getting information from him would be tough as hell. On the other hand, we’d get that information from a reliable source. If there was one person in this world who knew Roselli’s secrets, it would have to be Brad Connors.
But just because I didn’t like it didn’t mean it wasn’t necessary. “You said it yourself. Connors will know why Roselli put out a hit on Maggie. What else can we do? Ask his housekeeper? Or break into his fucking house and look for clues?”
“Emilio used to love Connors, man,” Rocco reminded me of the relationship between those two. “The first money I ever made in the family? Connors gave it to me. It was Emilio’s of course, but it was the first time anyone ever told me they were proud of me.”
Family. Rocco didn’t use that word lightly, because we hadn’t had any as kids. Except for each other. It sounded dumb to outsiders, but in our world, family was everything. Not the one you were born with, the one you worked for. When Emilio was the Don, we were a true family. With Nick in charge, it was more like a toxic workplace.
“I know it sucks to go after Connors. But we’ve got to do this. Maggie’s the innocent here, not him. You know I’m right.”
“That’s what I hate the most,” he confessed, turning into the consigliere’s neighborhood. “There’s nothing else we can do, other than speak with Connors.”
“Show time,” I said, as Rock pulled over down the street from the house. The consigliere’s home looked nice and cozy, much like every other property around us. Situated in the middle of a plot, a Victorian-style house was surrounded by four oak trees. It featured a rose garden in the front yard and was separated from other properties by a white picket fence. “What’s the plan? Where do we break in from?”
“Break in,” Rocco scoffed, rolling his eyes at me. “Look at the time—and look fucking around you.”
Damn it…
Rocco was right.
It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. There were people around. An older couple having drinks on their porch. A man and his son unloading bags from their trunk in a driveway. It wasn’t exactly the right time to be busting in windows.
“We’re not animals—we’ll knock,” Rock said.
Well, sometimes we weren’t animals. Other times, I wasn’t so sure.
We walked up to Connors’ door, my eyes on his living room window to the left. The lights were on, his big-screen TV flashing in the corner.
Rocco rang the bell, with me standing just a foot behind him. Connors’ scrawny figure filled my view moments later. The sixty-eight-year-old couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred fifty pounds. Several inches shorter than me and Rocco, he looked at us like he’d just seen a ghost.
“DeLuca? Knight?” he said our last names, craning his neck over Rocco. “Do you gentlemen have an appointment?”
“It’s urgent,” Rocco said, taking a step forward. Connors had no choice but to move backward into his living room. I clicked the door shut behind me.
“I’m going to cut right to the chase, Mr. Connors.” Rocco made his intentions crystal-clear. “This morning, Don Roselli put a hit out on a woman who’s got no connections with the organization. Her name is Maggie Owens—she’s a barmaid at a bar in Brooklyn. What can you tell me about that? Because our boss wouldn’t say much when we asked him.”
Connors had witnessed too much over the years to show his surprise at Rocco’s question. Even though those kinds of questions were highly dangerous in our line of work. “I’m afraid I don’t know,” Connors said in a steady voice. “I’ve never heard of that woman. If you gentlemen will excuse me, my show is about to start.”