Page 92 of Bound in Debt
That’s not a bad idea.
It’d help me out at least.
If the sheriff’s son is murdered, it’ll mean a full-scale investigation to discover who did it. If the sheriff is any good, the investigation will quickly lead his department to Angelo and the Lombardi boss will be locked up and out of my way in no time.
However, if I allow Ryan to die, it’ll only tip my hand and show Angelo that I’m trying to get his ass caught. He knows I’m not some wet-eared rookie. And I know he has ways to ensure he gets his revenge before he ever sees a judge.
“A dead body isn’t what your boss asked for,” I say flatly, staring at the scared little shit who’s about to piss his pants.
The sheriff’s son is pushing twenty, with boy-next-door vibes. He’s borderline average in the looks department and probably can’t pull the kind of girl he thinks he’s entitled to because of his father’s position. I wouldn’t put it past him to have actually attacked the Lombardi chick.
Angelo’s guys currently have him cowering in a chair in a back room of the bar where we found him. There’s no way in hell there aren’t cameras all over this place. Idiots.
“This kid raped his baby girl,” he snaps back, glowering at me. “You good with that, newbie?”
Newbie?
This asshole has obviously heard about me. I wouldn’t be surprised if Angelo had a talk with all his men to watch out for me. However, he should’ve told them to keep their fucking mouths closed or at least be respectful around me.
“I suggest you follow orders. Try processing the consequences before you send a whole fleet of cops up your boss’s ass.”
He continues to glare at me, as if he can make me back down. He can’t. “Boss said to kill him.”
Well, then…
I wave a hand magnanimously. After all, who the hell am I to disagree with Angelo’s orders? He gave me different ones, but if Angelo wants to test his power over local law enforcement, I say let him. I’d fucking love it if this stupid, petty shit got him out of my life.
The asshole at my side steps forward, a black Glock appearing in his hand. Trigger happy, much? I’m ready to let this asshole make shit worse for his boss and enjoy the show when my cell phone begins to vibrate in my back pocket.
Normally I wouldn’t pay any attention to it, but I don’t really want to be involved in murdering Ryan Mathers, cowardly kid-next-door.
Plucking the phone from my jeans, I read Victoria’s name on the screen and fight the urge to answer it.
We’re not dating.
I’m her husband, yes. I fucked her and liked it, of course. But I’m not at her beck and call. This clingy shit is not how things will continue moving forward.
Sending her to voicemail, I refocus just in time to hear Asshole hollering at the sheriff’s son to come clean like a man. He’s wasting valuable time talking when he could be finishing the job so we can all move on.
I’m not sure why I needed to be here. Angelo sent more than enough men to do this job, especially considering I thought we were only supposed to shatter the slimeball’s knee. Hell, he knew this was the kid’s usual drinking spot. I’m convinced Angelo just sent me along to make sure I was in the thick of things while his no-brains goon squad did the wet work.
In a room that’s guaranteed to have security cameras, since the whole bar is wired for surveillance.
There’s not even a silencer on the Glock that Asshole is waving around. This is about to get messy as fuck.
Shit.
Stepping back, I rethink my options and the rooms we passed in the hall. Anyone who’s ever gotten away with murder should know not to send six men after one unarmed kid. This is the sort of job that should be a one-and-done.
And why would Angelo risk making things personal with the cops?
To get you prison time so you’re out of the way.
Which leaves Liam—who cares—and Victoria to handle the debt.
I need to get these security recordings. My face is plastered all over them and, if these morons really are about to murder the sheriff’s son, we’re going down.
And I don’t have what Victoria needs to skip town yet.
