Break For Him (Volkov Crime Family 2)

I drove down the block and turned left onto McKean Street. I felt my hands tremble and a strange nervous sensation came over me as I rolled slowly from block to block, keeping my eye peeling for anyone following, but not spotting anything nearby. My stop was getting close and the streetlights didn’t feel like they gave off enough to see by, but we’d gone over this step by step already. I saw a car repair shop on my left followed by a low, grayish building that looked like nothing more than a brick wall with a blue garage door right in the center. I pulled over in front of the door, killed the engine, and took a deep breath.

I bent over to unbuckle my belt, and as my face turned toward the ground, I spoke. “I hope you’re still alive back there.”

“Not supposed to talk.”

“They can’t see me. I’m going in now. Good luck.”

He grunted in response and I was relieved he hadn’t passed out from heatstroke or something.

I got out of the van and walked up to the garage door. It was locked with a padlock, but I had a key shoved in my pocket. I pulled it out, took off the pad, and tossed it aside before rolling up the door.

Inside was an empty garage. There were tools hanging from pegs shoved into wooden squares along the walls and several car lifts. Motor oil stained the concrete floor and the whole place smelled like body odor, cheap leather, and gasoline. Usually this place was full of guys working on cars, but tonight they’d been cleared out.

A single man wearing a dark suit came walking toward me out of the gloom. I jumped as he appeared and tiled his head.

Dante smiled at me and gestured toward the door. “You were followed?”

I crossed my arms and looked nervously outside. “I hope so.”

“They won’t attack you here since the Jackals know this is my spot. They’re not dumb enough to piss me off.”

“That’s fine. I figured.”

“Once you leave, though—then you’re fair game.”

“That’s the idea.”

He snorted. “You really want this to go down?”

“It’d better, otherwise I made a real stupid mistake.”

He crossed his arms and watched me carefully. “Can I offer you come advice?”

“If you have to.”

“This isn’t a hard game to play. That’s not to say you’re not capable of it, but you’d better make damn sure it’s something you want.”

I gave him an angry stare. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m not worried one bit. Fascinated, more like, but not worried. There aren’t a whole lot of nice, quiet civilians like you that get pulled into this world and find that they like it.”

“I’m the exception I guess.”

He shrugged and gestured behind him. Two men I didn’t recognize came walking out from the darkness, each of them carrying a heavy duffel bag. They dropped them down on the ground in front of me.

“Filled with rocks,” he said. “But it’ll look convincing at least.”

“That’s fine. Our crates are filled with plastic bottles.”

He sighed. “I guess I’ll recycle them.”

“Burn them for all I care.” I grabbed one of the bags and lugged it over to the van. I made a show of opening the passenger door and throwing it in as Dante’s two guys walked out after me. I opened the back for them and they pulled out the crates—ignoring Owain as he squeezed himself down into a corner where the shadows were deepest.

I glanced down the street and tried to spot anyone watching, but if the Jackals were out there, they were being smart. I went back in, grabbed the second back, and tossed it onto the first one. I watched Dante’s men finish bringing in the crates then shut the back.

Dante came out and stood on the sidewalk. He smiled at me, head tilted.

“Tell Owain he owes me one.”

“I’ll make sure to pass it along.”

“Good luck. I really hope you survive this. I have to admit, you seem very interesting, and it’d be a shame if you ended up as just another blood stain on these streets.”

“Trust me, I don’t intend on losing.”

He laughed and waved then headed back inside. The garage door rolled down and once it hit the ground, I put the padlock back on and snapped it into place. I walked back to the van, climbed inside, and started the engine. As I bent down to put on my seatbelt, I spoke again.

“Doing okay back there?”

“Fine and dandy. Pissed in a bottle all day. How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. I don’t see them.”

“They’ll come. Get moving.”

I sat up and started driving. I went slow through side streets, edging my way south toward where I was scheduled to drop the fake bags of money.

Except I had nowhere to go.

For the last week, Owain’s guys had been spreading the rumor that we were selling all our pills in bulk to the Leone family. They tried to be as subtle as they could, although I had a feeling some of them were a little more heavy-handed than others, but still, the idea was that the Jackals would hear and come after us. They’d see me alone in the car and think—easy target, easy money. They won’t be able to help themselves.