I need Olivia to figure that out before I kill the bastard.
Chapter 11
Olivia
The next afternoon is bright and shiny again like the rain never happened, but there are hints: green grows in the sidewalk cracks along the gaps in the rocks, at the edges of the buildings. Green all over, a profusion of it, drunk and giddy from the water, like the city’s blooming all at once. The desert gives and it takes and it continues.
Casso’s driving today. He’s behind the wheel of a big, black Range Rover, while I sit in the passenger seat glaring out the window. We haven’t spoken since the meeting, and I get the feeling he’d rather say to hell with our whole deal and murder Danil from spite. I saw his face when Danil said that bit about Casso being bad for Phoenix: it was a mask of utter rage like he couldn’t conceal his emotions even if he tried. It was very unlike him.
I enjoyed the whole show.
But there is something strange about Danil. I don’t know why, but for the moment we have a common enemy, and that’s good enough for me. I don’t know how I can use Danil to escape from my situation with Casso, but if there’s way, I’ll find it.
Casso takes me to the northern section of town to a rundown neighborhood dotted with ranchers surrounded by weeds and big beat-up trucks. Tucked at the edge of a field littered with refuse is a building, low-slung and gray, with a tall neon sign out front that says Valley Charm. If any of the lights work, they’re not on now. There are three cars in the lot and nothing else. The windows are papered over and ancient faded Budweiser advertisements are tacked to the stucco walls. The roof is black, sunbaked, and falling apart. It’s a hole and that’s being generous.
“This is what that Russian wants to start a war over.” He parks on the street and leans back, staring out the window. “What do you think? Worth dying for?”
I frown and say nothing, but he’s got a point. This place looks like it’d be better off flattened and definitely not worth going up against an organization like the Bruno Famiglia.
“Gavino did some research into this place,” he says, talking low. “Apparently it’s owned by a couple of Polish guys, two brothers. We don’t know much about them, other than they’re involved in the Polish mob, which is a pretty minor outfit in this area, all things considered.”
“What are their names? The brothers?”
“Mickey and Joey Stazek. Word is they don’t like Russians much, and I suspect that’s why our friend Danil is having some trouble recouping his father’s old business. I don’t know much about Joey, he’s the younger one, but Mickey’s got something of a reputation as a killer. They call him the Polish Butcher, on account of all the guys he’s allegedly cut up and buried in the desert. Those nicknames tend to be exaggerated, but there’s always a grain of truth.”
I tap a fingernail against the dash and lean forward. “You think they’ll deal with you?”
“Everyone’s got a price,” he says and glances at me, a little smile on his lips. “You included.”
I glare right back. “Careful. I might start asking for more.”
He shifts slightly, facing me, a curious expression on his face like he’s not sure if he wants to be pissed off or he’s enjoying this little sparring session. “There’s something strange going on between you and that Russian.”
“That’s news to me. I didn’t know he existed until recently.”
“You saw the way he looked at you.”
“Are you jealous? I don’t think he wants me like that.” Although I’m not sure, if I’m honest with myself. The Danil I remember was quiet and attentive, but he’s always looked at me like he can’t decide if he wants to kill me or kiss me.
“I don’t think you have any clue what you do to men sometimes, Olivia.” He leans closer, a little snarl on his lips. “You need to be more careful.”
“Why, because I rile some stupid assholes up just by existing? It’s not my fault you all think with your dicks.”
“That’s not what I mean.” His jaw’s tight and he’s looking at me like he wants to rip my clothes off. I feel a cold breath down my skin and I wonder if I can jump out of the car and run. “Danil’s here for something, and until we figure out what, we’re stuck playing this fucking game. But you’re involved, and you’d better not screw it up and make it more difficult.”
He turns and climbs out. I watch him go, heart pounding, sweat stippling my skin. Why does he always assume I’m some kind of idiot? Like I didn’t put it together with Danil and realize that his whole thing is a little too convenient. It’s too strange that he shows up around the same time that I do and seems to remember me very intensely. I understand something’s going on, and I don’t need to be reminded about it from an asshole like Casso.