Mateo Caputo (Unseen Underground 2)

“It’s all your fault!” she screamed.

I opened my mouth, wanting to ask her what was my fault. But I wasn’t quick enough. She jumped on top of me, her knees hitting my chest and knocking the breath out of me. My head spun, the edges of my vision blurring as breathing became harder.

She didn’t stop. Punch after punch. In my face. My stomach. The middle of my chest.

This woman was meant to love me, but right then, all I saw was hate. Pure hatred.

A sound clicked from across the room and I heard Stan chuckle. “That’ll get their attention.” I tried to make sense of what he said, but my head was spinning, my brain trying to stay alert as my body shut down.

* * *

MATEO

My leg bounced up and down as we waited. Romeo paced near the door. He jumped back as Lorenzo and Christian came inside. But I didn’t move from my usual seat. I was listening intently to Romeo’s side of the conversation, trying to figure out what information was being passed to him.

Lorenzo took his seat next to me with Christian on the other side of him. “Anything yet?”

I shook my head and opened my mouth just as Romeo ended the call. I raised a brow, but he shook his head, silently telling me that he hadn’t been able to get any more information.

Fuck.

I clenched my hands on the table and turned my head to face Lorenzo. “We think Stan isn’t his real name.” Lorenzo leaned back in his seat, doing his usual analyzing face. He always saw things that everyone else missed, so maybe if I explained it from the top to him he’d spot what we might have missed. “Luna said that she’d never seen him before that day.” I stretched my fingers. “She also told me he had a fob ready for Romeo’s car.” I reached into my pocket and placed it on the table between us. “And he knew the numbers on the bags.”

He raised his brow at the fob, but didn’t move to pick it up. “So he’s been watching us.” It was the only explanation that he’d know what the numbers were because the only other people who knew were sitting in this room right now. Lorenzo rubbed his finger across his bottom lip. “And it was planned.”

“Yeah.” I blew out a breath. “Not one of our contacts knows who the hell he is. And then we realized if he didn’t want people to know who he was—”

“Then he’s pretending to be someone else,” Christian supplied.

“That’s what we’re thinking.” I moved my attention over to Romeo. “But even who we think it is we can’t find anything about him. Either people don’t know, or they’re scared to talk.”

Silence fell over the room, and I knew they were all trying to work it out, just like I was. It just…didn’t make any fuckin’ sense.

“Mr. Blue is here,” Romeo said, cutting through the tension building. He stood, letting him in from in here, and we all waited. If anyone would have answers, it would be him.

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?” Lorenzo asked Christian.

“That it feels like a setup?”

I frowned as I heard the buttons on the keypad click, and a second later, Mr. Blue sauntered in. He strolled to the only empty seat in here, and sat, not saying a word.

“Yeah,” Lorenzo replied to Christian. “Someone is trying to get an in.”

Christian’s eyes narrowed. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

They stared at each other for a beat, a silent conversation happening between them. And just as suddenly as it started, it ended.

“Mr. Blue.” Lorenzo interlaced his fingers and rested them on the table as he leaned forward. “Tell me you have good news.”

Mr. Blue’s eye twitched. “Depends what you consider good news.” He placed a briefcase on the table, the same one he’d carried the equipment to listen to the FBI in. Things had been quiet on that front—too quiet. And I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all interconnected. “The man you’re looking for is named Tanner Priest.” He pulled out a folder, closed his briefcase methodically, then placed it on the table. He was a businessman, one who didn’t rush when it was important. That told me more than anything else he showed us would. This wasn’t a quick drop off of equipment, or a rundown of where security was lax.

He handed each of us stapled pieces of paper. On the front was a man, his lifeless eyes and pockmarked skin telling me that he was an addict. Figured.

“Tanner Priest.” I rolled his name over my tongue, getting familiar with his picture.

“Yep,” Mr. Blue replied. “Tanner priest is a lieutenant for the Brimstone Crime Syndicate.”

“The who?” Lorenzo growled.