Shattered Prince

And then he was gone, walking away. I watched him go, quivering with desire, a pulse racing between my legs.

What the hell was with that man?

Chapter 12

Carmine

Captain Tolliver of the San Antonio Police Department leaned up against the front window of an upscale deli in the base of a massive business tower. He looked at me over his sunglasses, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“You sure do know how to make a boy feel special,” he said, a grin spreading across his lips as he shoved an envelope into his jacket. He wore civilian clothes and was off duty at the moment, but he kept his sunglasses on, just in case anyone might recognize him, or so he’d said when we first met up a few minutes earlier.

“Consider that backpay,” I said, nodding slightly. “You had a deal with my father, and I plan on honoring it.”

“Who says I want to keep going with this shit?” He still grinned, and I noticed the envelope had disappeared.

This was the part of the job that I hated. Dealing with crooked cops and corrupt politicians. Men and women in power were supposed to be above this sort of petty, shady deal-making, but anyone with an ounce of control was on the take from someone else. The rich dominated, not by strength, but by money.

It was all a mess. I hated this world but I was deeply a part of it and I’d keep on playing the game.

“We both know our arrangement is mutually beneficial,” I said, meeting his gaze. “You help my family and we keep the violence to a minimum. Fewer bodies for you people to clean up and better crime stats means more funding from the feds and better press. In exchange, you keep my men out of prison, and you feed me whatever information I need.”

He sighed. “Do you know how long it took your father to hammer this out with me? It was months, Carmine. It was like a dance and your old man was the best at it. He was relentless. I was just a lieutenant back then, you know.”

“I know. Father used to talk fondly of you.” Which wasn’t true. My dad called Tolliver that fucking little-dicked asshole over at SAPD.

“But you’re not your father and the old days are gone.” He wiped his forehead and nodded. “I’ll honor the deal. It worked well with Placido, so why not with you?”

“I’d appreciate that, Captain. But before you go, I need one thing.”

“Starting with this already?” He laughed and gestured. “Go ahead, young man. What can I do for you?”

“The Smierc Gang.”

His smile drifted away. “I heard you’re having trouble with them. I heard there was a firefight at a bar you own.”

“It was very badly done.”

“Yes, it was. You’re lucky half the guests at that party swore up and down they had no clue what happened.”

“And the other half?”

“They claimed to have never heard your name.” His smile came back, but it was twisted this time. “I don’t like those Polish assholes. I don’t have much on them now, but I’ll pass along what I know when I hear it.”

“Understood. They’re working with Mauro Balestra. You should watch out for both of them.”

“Don’t you worry. We’re already dealing with Balestra.” He pushed off the window and started to walk off. “You just be careful, young Carmine. Your father ran the city with money and sweet words. If you start running it with guns, there will be problems.”

I took a breath and watched him walk away.

Iago waited in the truck nearby.

Captain Tolliver was an asshole, but he was right. San Antonio wouldn’t survive a long, protracted mafia war. Too many people would end up dead and the authorities would have no choice but to step in and end it. They might’ve been corrupt, but no amount of bribe money could wipe away murder statistics.

Well, to a certain point, at least.

I headed over to the truck, thinking of Jules. I wondered what she thought of all this, and whether or not she was truly safe in my house. I worried about her, and about some of the things I’d noticed lately.

Like that little baggie of pills.

I got into the truck and Iago pulled out. We drove in silence. We knew where we were headed already and what we were going there to do. No reason to talk too much. I liked that about Iago. There was no bullshit with this man.

We parked across the street from a bar on the north side of town. It was a quiet joint with a rusty sign that read Big Hope’s Pub in green and gold across the front. Several cars were in a small lot attached to the right side, but otherwise the place looked dead and abandoned.

Iago killed the engine and settled in to wait. I leaned back in my seat and let my mind wander, all while staring at the front door and eyeing every car that rolled past.