CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: WINTER
"Hello?" Giovanni's body is tense as he answers his phone.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as his lips pull into a deep frown. He shifts slightly in his seat before pinching the bridge of his nose. "No." He pauses. "Fine."
He glances at me, stopping when he catches me already looking at him. I can only stare back, caught. His eyes roam over my face for a moment before he lets out another sigh. "No, fine, we can do that." He pulls his phone away from his head, pressing the red button to hang up.
He takes a deep breath before tapping Enzo on the shoulder, probably harder than necessary, I note. "Change of plans, head to the warehouse."
"The warehouse?" Enzo asks, his body coiled tightly.
"That's what I said," Giovanni snaps. "Someone has apparently thought it a good idea to break in and destroy half of our product."
My body tenses up. I don't know much about what the Costa family does and I've never heard any of them mention the warehouse before but it's not so hard to put the pieces together.
Drugs.
The reason I'm tangled up with them, the reason my life is such a shit show. Everyone in New Rise, Oregon is tied to drugs in one way or another. And I know that it's what Todd was interfering with at the club.
If someone destroyed half of their product... how much money is that?
I study Giovanni closely, my shoulders wound tightly. It has to be a hell of a lot, but he doesn't seem extremely irritated, just annoyed more or less.
I continue to watch him until the car stops and I look out of the window, taking in the building we've pulled up in front of. It's huge and behind a gate that we have to wait for entrance to pass by. There aren't any windows on the building and for a moment, I have to wonder if there's going to be another repeat execution that I'll have no choice but to witness.
Men are running around frantically, most of them wearing all black and armed with guns. When they spot our car, they all stop, moving to get out of the street. Enzo pulls the car up to a slow stop at the back of the building.
There's no one at this part and I can't help but to stare. It looks like a ghost town, a lone door leading inside of the building. He puts the car in park and turns in his seat, looking at Giovanni. "What's the order, boss?" he asks.
Giovanni doesn't say anything for a moment, just looking at Enzo, but I can tell his wheels are spinning as he tries to come up with a plan. After a moment, he takes a deep sigh. His eyes meet Enzo's. "This shouldn't take long. I just need to go in and see how big the loss is. Vito will handle the rest when he gets here. Stay parked out here and I'll be back in no more than ten minutes. Then we can go to the club as planned."
He looks at me. "It goes without staying, you are to stay here with Enzo."
"Where else would I go?" The sarcasm is something I wouldn't have allowed myself a few months back but after the last week, I'm already on edge.
I found his rat, so what is my purpose now?
The corner of his lip twitches and it happens so fast, I'm unsure if it's the cause of a bewildered smile or a deep frown. Instead, he doesn't say anything, climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind him.
I watch as he makes his way to the door, cool calm and collected. His steps are short and measured.
"It's funny how he never seems to be phased," I note, folding my arms over my chest and turning my gaze away from him as he enters the building.
"What do you mean?" I don't miss the note of irritation in his voice and the way his fingers twitch on the wheel.
"I mean anytime something major happens, he doesn't really seem to give a fuck. He's just like, 'Vito will fix it'." I mimic his voice, dropping mine to a lower octave.
"That's because Vito has a job and he's good at it." He says it in a grudging way and I note it's similar to the way Vito once said Enzo was good at his job.
"You don't like him, do you?" I ask.
"Who?"
"Vito."
There's a pregnant pause and his eyes move around the car, narrowing slightly. I almost think he isn't going to answer my question. "He's not my favorite person but I hold a lot of respect for him."
"Why isn't he your favorite person?”