“I don’t understand what you mean,” I said with a casual shrug. “We’re supposed to be going to see Dash, see what he wants, while Junior and them try to get my daughter back. I trusted you to do that. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. What’s going on, LC?”
“You’re the father of my grandbaby. Keeping family together is important to me,” he stated cryptically. “You can appreciate that, can’t you?”
“Absolutely,” I answered. This line of questioning and LC’s demeanor were making me extremely nervous. I felt the palms of my hands getting damp as the SUV exited the parkway.
“You know, I’m a little hungry. You want something to eat? You hungry?” LC asked me, his mood suddenly switching to a more energetic, animated state. The problem was that when LC mentioned he was hungry, it often meant someone was about to die. I’d learned that the night he took me to the apartment above the fried chicken joint and initiated me into the family business.
I checked my phone again. Still nothing.
“Nah, I’m good,” I told him. I could barely hear my own voice above the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. “I just want to get this meeting over with and go home to my daughter.”
“C’mon. Let’s grab a bite in Long Island. I know a good Italian place. You’ll like it. It’s called Frangio’s. Ever heard of it?”
My lip started quivering uncontrollably.
“They say it’s Sal Dash’s favorite eatery, this place Frangio’s. You ever been there?” He intentionally stressed the last four words. Obviously, he already knew the answer.
I took a deep breath and wiped my sweaty palms on my lap, prepared to beg for my life if I had to. “LC, I—”
“What was the plan, Harris?” he asked, no longer toying with me.
I lowered my head, heart pumping rapidly as I considered the revolver given to me by Dash. Clearly, LC knew something, and the men seated in front would be ready if I tried anything.
The truth. It might be my only chance for survival.
“The plan was that I kill you and they let Mariah go,” I answered in defeat.
“You still gonna kill me?” He pointed at my jacket, almost daring me.
“No. I wouldn’t, LC. I swear. It was never my intention.”
“Really? So why didn’t you tell us about your meeting?” He pointed at the space between us on the back seat. “Go on, now. Take it out. I want to see it again.”
“LC, they ... they showed me a video of Mariah,” I said, choking up. “But I couldn’t do what they wanted me to. You gotta believe me.”
“Take the gun out, Harris,” he demanded.
I warily complied, closing my eyes as I pulled the revolver from its hiding spot. Once in the open, I placed it on the seat beside me then pushed it farther away. Then I raised my hands in surrender. A bullet to my head was sure to come next. I should have killed him when I had the chance.
“Put your damn hands down,” LC instructed me, sounding disgusted. I listened, but kept my hands tightly gripped on my seat.
The SUV came to a stop. We’d traveled down a worn road riddled with potholes and covered in debris. I looked out the window at the bleak surroundings, which were remote, far away from prying eyes.
Then the doors unlocked. I’d been brought here to die.
“I only did what I had to do. I never wanted to hurt or disrespect you or the family,” I said solemnly. “So ... I guess this is it.”
“We’re still meeting with Dash,” he stated, not taking his probing eyes off me. “Or rather, you are.”
“Me? I... I don’t understand.”
“Take your gun and get out,” LC ordered.
“LC, I never planned on using it.”
“Well, you’re going to use it now—if you want to leave here alive.”
A wave of panic came over me. Did he expect me to shoot it out with his men?
“Please, please don’t kill me,” I begged. “I just wanted Mariah back safe.”
“Who said anything about killing you? You’re my son-in-law, part of my family, right?” he said with only a slight hint of irony in his voice.
“Yes.”
“Good. So I need you to prove it, or, as the Italians say, it’s time to make your bones.”