“Go. Do. Get answers.” He hesitates and I arch a brow.
“We don’t know how well the Geminis know this woman. She lived with two members for years. We don’t know how much of a liability she represents to them.” He reaches into his pocket and hands me a thumb drive. “That’s information on the Geminis you need to know. I know I’ve said this before but I’m saying it again: They’re dangerous.” I accept the drive and he adds, “If she knows how dangerous they are, and she left to protect you, she’s a brave-ass bitch.”
“Sounds like you trust her.”
“Leaning that way,” he repeats stubbornly.
“Lean harder and find a way to protect her. She matters to me.”
He nods and turns, while I do the same, entering the apartment and shutting the door. Emily is not yet present, and I walk to the kitchen and put on my suit jacket before loading my computer into my briefcase. By the time I’m back in the foyer, she’s standing there in her coat, ready to go. “He still doesn’t trust me.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, slipping on my coat to downplay Seth’s concerns, which I know won’t last.
“‘Leaning that way,’” she says, repeating what he’d said about trusting her. “I was attached to the Geminis for a decade plus. He’s doing his job.”
Shifting my briefcase on my shoulder I face her, finding her oddly at ease. “You don’t seem upset.”
“I am upset. I’m scared. I hate my brother put me in this position. But the good news is that I have a full stomach or I might just plain flip out. I should really warn you that I’m unstable when unfed. Maybe I should take food to your father. Maybe that’s the key to soothing the beast.”
“Unless it’s raw meat,” I say, “don’t bother.” And I tell myself that I’m playing along with this fa?ade of flippancy because it’s obviously her way of coping, a way of being strong. But silence is better than a comfort rooted in a lie.
*
Emily and I end up stopping the elevator four times on the way to the ground level and finally step out into the garage. “There are a few negatives to this living arrangement,” I say, as we walk toward the car.
“The pluses outweigh the negatives,” she says. “Room service. Security. Location.”
I click the button to unlock the Bentley, and the lights flash. At the same moment, a black Cadillac Escalade pulls out of a parking spot and drives just past us, then stops. Unease rolls down my spine and I stop walking, turning to look over my shoulder. Still, it sits there. “That’s weird,” Emily comments. “Why is it just sitting there?”
I have no idea why but I know in my gut who is waiting for me in that hundred-thousand-dollar SUV. I take Emily’s hand and palm her the keys. “Go to the office. I’ll meet you there.”
“What? Why? Shane—”
“I need you to do this and not ask questions. Text me after you meet with my father, and tell me you’re okay. But don’t say or text anything you don’t want hacked or listened in on.”
“Okay I will, but I can’t drive your Bentley. I’ll walk. What if you need it?”
“I have a spare key. I’ll pick it up at the office.” I firm my voice. “Take the car. Go now.”
She inhales and then nods. “Yes. Okay.” And then as if she senses the danger I know exists right now, she adds, “Be careful, Shane.” She turns and walks to the car and gets in. Only when she starts the engine do I turn back around and walk to the vehicle. When I reach the back window, it rolls down, exposing a man in his thirties with dark wavy hair and dark eyes. He leans forward; I know him from photos.
“Adrian Martina,” I say, making it clear I know I am talking to the second in the Martina cartel, and the man my brother has brought to my doorstep.
“Shane Brandon,” he replies. “It’s time we talk, don’t you think?” He pops open the door and I show no hesitation getting in. Fear doesn’t win. And I’m going to win.
I climb into the double backseat, sitting across from him, and shut the door. Adrian hits the button to raise the window that seals us away from the driver. He is refined in every way, his suit a glossy pale blue that practically gleams money.
Our eyes meet, and in his I feel the push for control, the hunger for power and money he already possesses but wants more of. The things that draw him to my brother, but also put them at odds, as they want the same things. “I understand we’re practically family.”
I arch a brow. “How exactly is that?”
“You don’t know your brother and my sister are dating?”
“Dating doesn’t constitute family.”
“I understand that might change.” I don’t react, though I silently vow to cage my brother before he marries us to a cartel. “Mexicans take family to heart. It’s serious. It’s business.”
“My business is not your business.”
“Your brother’s business is my business,” he counters.
“If my brother controlled Brandon Enterprises, that would be true, but he doesn’t. Just as you don’t control your family operation.”
“Our fathers,” he says. “Both ready to retire.” His lips quirk slightly. “In their own ways.”
The inference that mine will soon die is without question, and is meant to gain a reaction I don’t give him. “Since when is your father ready to retire?”
“Whether he does or does not, I am heir to all that is his, but you, my new friend, we both know, cannot say the same.”
“Don’t believe everything my brother tells you. He’ll land you in jail.”
“Yes. About that. I understand you have Feds sniffing around.”
“And the irony of that is that it’s unrelated to whatever arrangement you’ve made with my brother, but not unrelated to him. He bribed an inspector to get drug approval.” Surprise flickers in his eyes. “He didn’t tell you,” I say, jumping on this. “Or he didn’t tell you the truth. But then why would he want you to know that he’s done something to assure the Feds are all over us.”
“Surely you can clean it up.”
“Had I not cleaned up a mess with the Feds my brother created a year ago, you’d be right.” I lean in and rest my elbows on my knees. “There’s a reason no other operation such as yours has infiltrated the legit market. It’s swarming with Feds. Get out before my brother hands you, and me, to them on a silver platter.”
“I don’t want out. I want you in.”
“That will never happen.” I open the door and get out, and he rolls the window down to glance at me.
“The Feds will find nothing wrong inside your operations. You have my word. And I am a man of my word.” The window closes.
I am a man of my word, as well, I think as the SUV drives away, and when I said his business is not my business, I meant it. I turn to find the Bentley gone as I expect it to be, and while Emily has driven it away, she is still consuming my thoughts and in my life in a way that means I have more on the line than ever. I head toward the elevator and start walking, removing my phone as I do to key in Seth’s number. He doesn’t answer.