I checked my watch before nodding. “Sure. Besides everyone knows we mafia members don’t have to worry about being on time anyway. We have everyone in our pockets. They’ll wait.”
He gave me a look, and I beamed as we walked to the back of the store. He held the door open for me, and without another word, he pulled the key from under his neck. Moving behind the couch, he opened the fake light switch and inserted the key, which caused a spilt in the wall to my right. Without him, I walked down the iron staircase until I reached the basement. There, rows and rows of large scented candles stood in front of dozens of naked women and men. The only things covered was their hands, mouths, and hair as, one by one, they poured the cocaine into the false bottom and melded the glass bottom back together. The biologically engineered scent of the candles masked the scent of the drugs, even from the best dogs. None of them dared speak, and certainly none of them looked up as I walked behind them, looking over their shoulders.
“We’re shipping out tonight,” I told Ailín as I watched.
“How many?”
“All. The others have been notified already.”
“Is your brother aware—” He paused as I turned to look down at him, and he swallowed slowly, nodding. “We’ll be ready.”
“You have no choice,” I reminded him, turning back around toward the stairs.
In light of all the other shit I was dealing with, this part was starting to feel fucking easy.
Back up the stairs, Ailín gave me a box, my “delivery,” before locking the door behind us and opening the door back into the barber shop.
The boys’ press conference appeared to be done. On the screen now stood Governor Orton, a.k.a. The Alp, red-faced, gripping onto the podium.
Don’t be stupid, Governor. I didn’t really bet on him being able to help it. He wasn’t stupid by choice, meaning he wasn’t actually dumb. He was quite smart, and that was his problem. He kept thinking he could fight us—if he was just bold enough, clever enough, he could take on my family and win.
“I have seen a lot of horrible things in my life…but this…my wife was a good person, the people, the person who did this to her, to this city, are more than monsters, they’re soul-less cowards. Cowards who feed off chaos and spew misery everywhere they go. I know who this…”
He paused.
Everything paused.
Except me. Smiling, I watched as Adam put his hand on the governor’s shoulder. It looked like Adam was trying to give support to his boss during this emotional time, but I knew better. So did the governor.
Gotta love HD cameras. I grinned. I could see the lump in the governor’s throat…aka his balls, his pride, his sense of dignity lodged in there, perfectly and just as perfectly as he swallowed it all to say what came next. “It has come to my attention that officers of the Chicago PD have been smuggling meth and heroine, which the officers had confiscated for drug lords. Those drug lords retaliated…and…and that is why…that is why I am now a widow.”
It took herculean strength for me not to grin like a mad man.
“What I tell you, Jerry! Them cops have been crooked for years!” Jimmy shook his head at the screen. It was only then I noticed that they didn’t look like they needed any services at the barber. Moreover, they wouldn’t be able to afford any services.
“Why do they come here?” I asked Ailín.
Ailín huffed. “Free comedy show.”
“Get them some new clothes and fix them up. My treat. I was very entertained,” I said to him, giving him a few more bills before walking to the front door. They were too preoccupied to even notice.
Outside, Mannix was wiping the windshield. Opening the door myself, I said to him, “Let’s go.”
“Right away, sir.” He quickly got behind the wheel. “Where to?”
“Home, and turn on the news.”
In a few minutes, the world would get to see a little bit more of the dearly departed Mrs. Orton…after all, I had made a promise to the governor.
That motherfucker was going to regret shooting me…it was his motherfucking fault I went to Helen’s and my fucking world was all out of whack!
Fuck his wife and his grief. I was going to drag them through the mud until I felt fucking better, and seeing as how that didn’t seem to happen anymore, fuck ‘em.
How could she not remember? The question popped back into my head again. Sighing, I rubbed the side of my head.
“Mannix, do you understand women?”
“No, sir, I do not,” he answered. “The moment I do, I plan on retiring and writing a book.”
So never. “Fine then, let me ask for a male’s perspective.” I tried to think of a way to phrase it. But I didn’t want to start off with, ‘So I have this friend.’ Fuck it. He wouldn’t know who the hell I was speaking about anyway, and if he did, I’d kill him. “I’ve known the woman for a long time. Since we were children. I’ve always seen her as my sister… No, as more than my sister, a best friend of sorts. I’ve gone out of my way to keep her near me. I’ve killed to keep her around. Yet not once have I ever thought of her in any other way. Then she’s suddenly confessed that she’s got feelings for me? And suddenly I have no clue what the fuck is going on anymore. Which is why I’m talking to my driver; whose badass nickname is Monk.”
“Ugh…sir, so your question is—”
“What the fuck am I going to do?” His eyes met mine in the mirror, and for some reason, he grinned. Glaring, I snapped at him. “What?”
“Sir, since I’ve met you, hell, since you’ve come back to the city, the one thing everyone has noticed is that you aren’t the type of
