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)
“I didn’t think it’d get this bad,” Julian said. “Two shots. That was the plan, until Marina bought us the next round.”
“And then, let me guess, Slater told her to leave the bottle.” I shook my head in disgust. “So tell me more about Slater’s fabulous plan. Because clearly, he’s a man you want to listen to.” Slater chose that moment to spit up at least a shot and a half of Tequila into the sink.
With bleary eyes, he turned to me. “Well, see—”
“Move,” I cut him off. “I don’t want to have that conversation here.”
“I like it,” Julian’s last words made me look back at him in confusion. “Not… that.” He gestured toward the wreck that was our friend. “His plan, I mean. It’s smart.”
“Outside,” I demanded, twisting the handle on the door.
“First, explain to me how you got those,” Julian stated, pointing down at my bruised knuckles.
I sucked in a deep breath, remembering the sweet moments when my fists slammed into those two asshole’s faces.
“Keeler and Portis,” I began, the two of us reaching the table across from the men’s room entrance. “They decided to rob the Rusty Bucket.”
“Assholes,” Julian muttered. “Was Maggie tending bar?”
I grunted, nodding. None of us knew her well, but we had eyes. She’d be hard not to notice. “She actually pulled a shotgun on them.”
“Seriously?” Julian grinned. “I’d have liked to see that.”
Yeah, it’d been quite the sight. “I took care of them for her.”
“Ouch.” Julian cringed. “That had to hurt. Them, I mean.”
“It did,” I confirmed with a nod. “If I ever see them again anywhere near the Rusty Bucket again, they’re dead. You tell me if you see them, okay?”
“Will do,” Julian nodded in agreement, Slater joining in a few seconds late. He all but fell into the corner booth we chose. With another groan, he leaned his elbows on the sticky table and palmed his face.
“Damn…” he croaked. “That hangover’s killing me. Julian, you tell him the plan.”
“Rocco’s right,” Julian uttered in an annoyed voice, tossing a sideways glare at him. “I should have stopped you before you got drunk out of your fucking mind.”
“Ah, shit…” Slater muttered, his eyes shut as his fingers raked through his spiky hair. “Just tell him.”
“Whatever,” Julian spoke, shifting his focus to me. “All right, here goes. Rocco, you remember North Haven, right?”
I nodded. “Rich suburb—takes a while to get there. Why?”
“Slater had been checking it out for a while,” Julian continued. “There’s a police station there, but it’s understaffed. There are like two cops on shift, twenty-four-seven. Locals don’t rely much on police anyway. They’ve got the money to employ security firms.”
“I’m still waiting to hear what we’re going to do up there.” It would be nice if he got to the fucking point. “Police stations are understaffed pretty much everywhere outside of the city. You don’t see people shooting each other on the street, though.”
“No shooting,” Julian assured, waving his hand in front of his face. “At least, I hope we won’t have to shoot anybody. We’ve all been looking for a way out of the organization, Rocco. This might be it.”
The words hit me hard. They weren’t the kind of thing guys like us should even think, let alone say. And we wouldn’t have, years ago when we worked for Emilio Roselli, he was the head of the family. He was a good man. Okay, there were a bunch of cops, judges, and city officials who probably didn’t think so, but Emilio had lived by a code.
But he was dead, and his son had taken over. Nicolo Roselli. Nick was the kind of guy who stationed drug dealers outside of fucking middle school to get the kids hooked early. They’ll be our customers for life, he’d say.
Yeah, right. For their very short lives. Loyalty was everything in my line of work, and I’d had it for Emilio. I would have given my life for him—we all would have. But his son? His son could go fuck himself. Nick was our boss, but it wasn’t like we could just hand in a two week notice. But the longer we worked for that asshole, the more I wanted to get as far away from him as possible.
Except trying it would likely end with the three of us six feet underground.
Julian was still talking, and I’d missed part of it. “It’s what we do afterwards that’s the real problem,” he continued. “No one’s going to hire guys like us, unless we’re willing to work for bum paychecks.”
“Bum paychecks are better than being dead,” I pointed out. Though, it wasn’t like I’d be content to work a fucking nine-to-five. “So is North Haven supposed to be some kind of golden opportunity for us?”
“Yes, actually.” He cocked his head to the side. “Forget breaking into one of those mega-mansions up there. Like I said, there’s private security watching them all the fucking time. I’m talking about a bank. Palmer’s Savings and Loan branch is easy pickings. It’s about four miles from the police station. Slater knows this hacker, Eddie. He can disable its alarm system remotely. The cops won’t even know we’re there.”