Brennan emptied his lungs and trained his eyes on Vito, who clicked the pliers.
“Just a heads up, Riley,” he said. “If all the money ain’t in there, you’re gonna have a bit more than a dental problem. Right, Gio?”
Gio opened his coat to reveal two Glock 17s strapped under his arms. Thirty-four rounds that traveled at a velocity high enough to penetrate the vest from the distance that Gio stood from Brennan. And that was only if Gio opted for a body shot. All of which was why Brennan had Carson prepare the paperwork, and why he’d talked to Liza.
Live by the sword; die by the sword.
He knew all along this was in the cards, and he set his jaw in silent acceptance.
Angelo began raising a ruckus about the bills in the bag, and Brennan didn’t take his eyes of Gio’s hands. Another pair of hands grabbed Brennan by the shoulders and lifted him out of the chair to drag him to stand against the back wall.
“Brennan.” Vito laughed a devilish laugh and tossed a strap of the fake bills at Brennan’s face. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid? Did you think I was going to fall for that? Do you know how long I’ve been doing this? I’ve had at least seventy-five men killed in thirty years for pulling exactly this shit, and you made a bad choice today, kid.”
He patted Gio’s shoulder, and Gio opened his coat again.
There was still no sound from the front of the restaurant, and Brennan leveled his gaze at Gio as he slowly lifted his arms at his sides in preparation for the crucifixion he knew was coming to him.
She loves me. No matter what happens, she loves me.
It wasn’t everything he wanted. But it was enough.
Chaos erupted. There was an explosion of gunpowder and lead, and instant, blinding pain that slammed him against something hard and unyielding. A light-speed slideshow zipped through his mind’s eye. Mental pictures of Skye living a long, happy life and growing old in his grandparents’ house. His house. Her house. Herhomeif that’s what she chose.
But the point was she now had a choice. She could do whatever she wanted now.
She was free.
And that was enough.
35
AVONDALE, LOUISIANA
“Well then I’m sure you heard about poor, unfortunate Moe Torrio they pulled out of the Mississippi,” the graveled voice crackled over the small laptop speakers.
The agent sitting in front of the laptop turned a glance to Special Agent Kaderli, who was in charge. The younger agent raised his eyebrows, and Kaderli held up his hand to silence him before he spoke. Skye and Constance held each other’s hands tighter while they sat on the sofa, and Orson rubbed his chin while he stared at the speakers, pacing behind the agents.
“I recall,” came Brennan’s voice. “Poor schmuck was missing all his teeth and they had a hell of a time identifying him.”
“That’s right, that’s right,” came the other voice. “You know I do that on purpose because it throws off the authorities for a while. It’s hard to identify these poor folks after Gio’s done with ‘em, but the dental records always used to come back and bite me in the ass.”
“That’s it,” the younger agent said. “That’s one. You gonna order this or what?”
Kaderli squinted one eye as he smacked his gum. “Hold your damn horses.”
“...but I already got a stealthy structure in place to handle my finances. You ever been to the Carlotta Bakery over in Bayou St. John? That’s Angelo’s mama’s place, and her cannoli is out of this world. She’s also a skilled accountant, if you gather what I mean. She made it so I never had a problem with my books in the thirty years I’ve been running the establishment,” the voice was saying.
“Carlotta Bakery,” the younger agent repeated, visibly antsy. “He literally just said it—”
“Yeah, Iknow.” Kaderli chirped a radio and began barking a quick succession of orders to the person on the other end.
“Does that mean you’re going to get him?” Orson piped up, marching to stand right behind the younger agent. “You need to go get him.” His voice was tinged with panic. “That was a credible threat of violence, and you assured us you would get him out of there when there was a credible threat.”
“Stay calm, Mr. Riley,” the younger agent said. “They’re going in right now.”
“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” the crackly voice snapped. “Did you think I was going to fall for that? Do you know how long I’ve been doing this? I’ve had at least seventy-five men killed in thirty years for pulling exactly this shit, and you made a bad choice today, kid.”
“Ohshit,” the younger agent wheezed. “That’s as good as we could’ve hoped for.”
