“That’s your freebie because I respect the fuck out of you, Dominick,” Shane says as he smooths his hair. “Next time, I’ll fight back.”
Dominick’s eyes narrow, the coldness intimidating as frick even when it’s not directed at me, but Shane doesn’t flinch. “If you get a chance. But say your piece.”
“I was sent in undercover in your operation, another agent in Rivaldi’s,” Shane says, leaning back in his chair. “It took some time to get that agent’s information, but I’m giving you all I have. Carlos was giving Sal shit, and you know there’s no love lost between the two of them. Sal decided he needed to stop the coup Carlos was stirring up, but for Sal, that’s not enough. If he’s going to kill his own son, why not use it as a power play? He knew that if he could pin Carlos’s death on you, he’d have the Colombians with him when he wanted to go hot around here. So he sent Carlos to Petals on a fool’s errand and secretly hired out the hit so it’d take place on your territory. Sal’s telling his whole crew you killed Carlos, and now he has the best justification ever to start a war . . . to avenge his son.”
“The Colombians do go for family,” Dominick concedes. “Never hired a Colombian dancer for just that reason. Too likely to have some bloodthirsty cousin on my doorstep.”
“But Sal set it all up—set you up. He’s making a play for more control, and he’s ready to war with you to get it.”
I can see Dominick taking in everything, the calculations and strategies running through his mind as he plays out scenario after scenario. He reaches down, picking up his seemingly forgotten drink and draining the rest of it in one swallow.
“That is a lot to think about, many things to consider. But tell me this, FBI agent. Why are you telling me all this? You wouldn’t be trying to entrap me into something, would you?”
Shane chuckles darkly, crossing his legs almost casually. “No, Dominick. I’m not trying to entrap you. What you do with this information is your choice—war with the Rivaldis or don’t war with them. My thinking is this. There are devils in every world, some more evil, some perhaps less. But they’re necessary, to balance out the angels.”
Shane takes my hand and looks lovingly at me before turning back to Dominick. “Sometimes, you help the devil you know is the lesser evil in the hopes that they will help you too.”
Dominick looks from Shane to me and back. “Ah, so this is where the help comes in. You’ve given me information in the hopes that I will do something for you too. What is it you want?”
Shane lets go of my hand and leans forward again. “The hitman. I’ve got a name. I’ve seen his face now too. He’s seen us and is hunting us still. I’m slightly worried about how he’s getting his information, but that’s a fight for another day, and likely solved if he’s dealt with the way I’d prefer. Right now, I need him to stop. Means and methods are yours to decide, of course. If you do us this favor.”
Dominick nods thoughtfully and rubs his chin in consideration. “I do not like people who choose to do their dirty work inside my own place of business. It’s disrespectful and bad for my reputation, you see? It’s in my best interest to punish the hitman for his transgression, but I will say that it’s for your benefit and hold that over you. Agreed?”
Shane nods. “One more thing . . .”
Dominick smirks, the smug arrogance obvious on his face. “I thought there might be.”
“We walk. Maggie and I walk away from all of this safely. Forever. No outstanding threats, no looking over our shoulders. You will never see either of us again.”
That hurts, and I glance at Allie, knowing that if Dominick agrees, it means our friendship’s over too. But it has to be.
“Agreed. You may both walk away safely, but I will not promise you will never see me again. Having friends in certain positions can be an excellent resource, so while I will not use you frequently, I will keep you available if the need comes up. And . . . Mr. FBI Agent, your East Robinsville privileges are revoked. Permanently. You don’t set foot in this town again. Unless it is by my invitation.”
There’s a carefulness to his phrasing, the details somehow in the words he’s not saying. I can see the methodical strategic mind Shane said Dominick possesses, making contingencies until the end.
I feel like we’re all pawns in Dominick’s chess game, but we’re still on move three and he’s already planned out his game to the checkmate move.
Shane nods and offers his hand. “Agreed, with one caveat. You will not use either of us in a way that would endanger us, especially Maggie.”
Dominick bows his head and offers his own hand. “I wouldn’t threaten a man’s family. That’s how cockroaches operate, and while I may be a devil in your eyes, I’m no cockroach.”
They shake, and the agreement’s made.
Chapter 22
Shane
“Oh, my goodness, I can’t believe Dominick’s going to help us!” Maggie exclaims happily, falling ungracefully to the couch. We’re upstairs at the club, in the private apartment Dominick keeps. I’ve been up here before, mostly on days when Dom’s stayed over himself. It’s a cush place, small but fancier than anything I’ve ever had for damn sure. And it’s not even his real home, just a crash pad.
After reaching our agreement, Dominick ‘offered’ us the protection of the club and the use of the place. It wasn’t so much an offer as a demand. We’re definitely more prisoner than guest, but his protection comes with his rules, so here we are.
I sit down beside her on the couch, pulling her legs into my lap and slipping off her shoes to rub her feet. “He’s helping, but we can’t get too comfortable in this gilded cage. I’m not certain he won’t flip on us. And we still don’t know what he plans to do about Sal.”
Maggie looks thoughtful, smiling as she wiggles her toes for me. “Honestly, I’m not sure I care. All this mob stuff was happening before, right under my nose, and I was oblivious. If I wasn’t in the middle of it this time, I probably still wouldn’t know about this potential threat to the city. Maybe I’d be better off, happier in my blissful ignorance.”
I run my hand along her calf up to her thigh, marveling at the power in her muscles and tracing the fading marks from last night. “Maybe so. But the power structure that directs the city, from politics, to businesses, to the streets, it’s all intertwined, and if things are running smoothly, you don’t notice them.”
“Kinda like the sewer company?” Maggie asks. “As long as the toilets are working right, you never notice them.”
I nod, thinking Maggie’s found a pretty good analogy. “You haven’t noticed things here because Dominick does a damn fine job of keeping himself seamless. If Sal were running things, you’d know the difference. You’d see it on the news, you’d feel it when you walked around your neighborhood. To be a part of the solution, you have to be aware of the problems . . . all of them, even the scary ones.”
Maggie’s eyes bore into me even as she leans back against the couch cushion. “Is that why you do it, why you’re an FBI agent? To be part of the solution?”
My hands still. I’ve known this was coming. We dropped these big bombs of who we are on each other but then had to let the issues lie while we got to safety.
Now that we’ve got the semblance of protection, the tenuous pause on our questions drops away. “Remember how I told you about my dad?”