“Speak of the devil. That’s probably one of my aces right now.”
I laughed as I fished my phone out of my pocket. But I stopped laughing when I saw the name on the screen.
I bolted upright. “Shit.I gotta take this.” I ran inside Rust’s house, so Killer wouldn’t hear the party in the background, and answered.
“Hey, Killer. What’s up?”
“Listen, do you have plans tomorrow?” he asked curtly.
“Tomorrow? Nope. Just working out with Parker first thing in the morning, and then again at three o’clock,” I said, eager to impress him by all these serious life changes. “Yep, it’s gonna be two-a-days all summer long for me, just like I said.”
But if Killer was impressed, he didn’t show it. “How about tomorrow night?” he asked.
“Tomorrow night? No plans. Nothing at all. I’m a good boy now, Coach.”
“Good,” he said. “So I spoke to Mr. Capuano earlier.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “And?”
“And I tried my best to sell him on your side of the story. I told him about our meeting, and that you agreed to work with the training staff all summer, and even committed to a totally dry summer.”
“Yeah? And what’d he say?”
“Well, I won’t sugarcoat it, Dak. He’s extremely skeptical.”
My heart sank. “Damn …”
“With how our season ended, and with that video floating around out there, he’d be crazy if he weren’t.”
“Yeah, I know,” I grumbled.
“But I want you to know that I really stood up for you, Dak. I fought hard. I put my neck on the line. And in the end, Mr. Capuano is willing to give you a second chance—”
“Oh thankGod,” I muttered, my arm shooting into the air triumphantly. “Killer. You’re theman.Thank you so much.”
“I wasn’t finished,” Killer said, cutting my celebration short. “Mr. Capuano is willing to give you a second chance,buthe wants to have a face-to-face meeting with you first.”
“Sorry, a wha’?”
“A meeting. Dinner, specifically. And the thing is, because of Mr. Capuano’s tight schedule, the only time it can happen is tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night?” I stammered. “Shoot. I’d love to. But, er, I’ve got a thing tomorrow night.”
“But just a moment ago, you told me you had no plans,” Killer replied, and I couldhearhis sneer. “Listen, Dak, I wouldn’t refuse his offer, because you’re not likely to get another one. Mr. Capuano is a very busy man, and hell, you’re already at the end of your rope.”
“Alright. Alright. Fuck it. I guess I gotta go then.” I drew a deep breath, bracing myself. “Dinner with Sal Capuano then. Sure, why not? What’s the worst that could happen?” An instant after I posed the question, I got my answer—a blinding white muzzle flash of a gun filled my vision, making my entire body jolt and stagger backwards.
It was just my imagination playing tricks on me, of course—but for a brief split-second, I really felt like I’d been unexpectedly and unceremoniously whacked. I tried to shake the vision off and push the unnerving thoughts aside.
“So, uh, where are we having dinner, anyway?” I asked, a small tremble in my voice.
“At Mr. Capuano’s house. I’ll text you the address.”
“Oh, lovely. Mr. Capuano’s house.” An ominous feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Dinner at his house meant no witnesses.“Anything else I should know?”
“Yeah, actually,” Killer said, and I could tell he was savoring this last bit of information. “He wants you to bring Jane.”
“Jane?” I asked, confused.
