Either we’re cursed, or it’s something in the water here because the streets would be painted with blood if this all played out on our turf.
“Anyway, that brings me to why we’re here.”
Finally.
“The Ice Riders are who shot up the café and they had issues with a cartel that ran their product through New York.”
At the mention of a cartel, my body goes rigid and I feel Nico’s eyes penetrate through me.
“Being their ally, they reached out to Sabella in hopes he’d intervene. Sabella, in turn, told them about the ledgers. I guess he thought there might be something in there that would help them squash whatever shit they had with the cartel. The fucker also told him we had one on their crew and that we planned to use it to attack them. They sent their men down to us, and, well, Scout told you how that played out.”
“Back up,” I growl. “This cartel you speak of, they got a name?”
“Shit,” Nico mutters from the other end of the table, gaining the attention of my houseguests.
“Off the top of my head, I don’t recall,” Mac admits. “But Scout had me read over both ledgers and if you say a name, I might remember.”
“Sinaloa,” I reply through clenched teeth and a locked jaw. Nico and I both keep our eyes pinned to Mac as he recites the name out loud.
“It’s familiar,” he confirms with a nod. Meeting my gaze, he says the name again. “I think that’s the cartel the Ice Riders got in trouble with but, we kept copies of the ledgers. In fact, John left failsafe boxes around the country for Silk. I guess he was expecting someone would retaliate against his daughter. The ledgers are about seventeen years old, maybe more, but like I said there’s one here in a safety deposit box at Richmond County Savings Bank on Staten Island. Scout gave me the key, and we have written authorization from Silk to get into the box. All we gotta do is go to the bank and collect the hard copy. But I gotta ask, what’s it to you?”
Swiping a hand over my face, I lean back in my chair.
“Uncle Jack,” Nico calls from across the table.
I don’t look at him mainly because I don’t want to see the doubt in his eyes or hear him tell me I’m fucking crazy again. I’m about to fill the Charon crew in on my theory when the doorbell sounds. Without a glance, I order Nico to get the door and turn to Mac.
“I don’t got any solid proof, but I’d bet my life the Sinaloa Cartel, mainly some cunt Javier and his crew are the men responsible for my wife’s accident.”
Before I can divulge any more information Wolf, Pipe, Bas, and Riggs enter my dining room with Nico hot on their tail.
“What the fuck is this?” Wolf questions, eyeing the leather-clad menaces gathered around my table.
Lifting my eyes to his, I swipe my hand around the table.
“This, my friend, is Hell,” I reply. “Take a seat. The coffee is shit but the conversation just got a fuck of a whole lot interesting.”
