Page 106 of Mob Saint

As though on cue, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I’d ignore it if there were no chance it could be Tiera calling for help. I slide the phone from my pocket. Right now? That fucker? I push it back into my pocket.

“What? Not your little girl—your cailín—calling to beg you to rescue her pitiful fat ass.”

My phone buzzes again as I put another bullet into him. This time the left side of his pelvis. None of these three wounds will kill him immediately, but they should immobilize him, even if he revels in this kind of twisted pain. I tap the preview

Alejandro

We know where she is. Darren

I can’t see the rest. I unlock the screen and tap the app.

Alejandro

We know where she is. Darren has her. We’re on our way.

I killed the arsehole… At least, I believed I did. He has to be dead. He couldn’t have survived the bullet I put in him or how I disposed of his body. Or rather how I thought I disposed of his body. That’s what Zack alluded to a moment ago. I’m still holding Zack at gunpoint when I tap on Alejandro’s contact.

Yes, we have each other on speed dial. All four families have each other on speed dial. For many of us, we got those numbers from each other when we were kids and still played little league sports together. That’s how fucked-up this life is. Alejandro used to be on my t-ball team, then my baseball team all the way through middle school. We played travel ball. We liked each other for the most part most of the time as kids. Though he never forgave me for allegedly breaking his Hot Wheel. That was his shitbag cousin Juan, who’s already dead.

We’d all play sports together on the weekends, and our dads had to play nice with each other. They were the snack parents alongside our parents. Monday rolled around, and they were plotting how to kill each other. It went on that way all the way through high school. We were friends until we each turned twelve and started carrying knives. The truces ended when we were each fourteen and started getting in fights with one another away from school and athletics. It was war once we were each sixteen and started going on missions.

Why should I believe him?

Why shouldn’t I?

I can’t risk him telling me the truth and me ignoring it out of spite. If it’s a trap, I’ll finally kill the motherfucker. If it isn’t, I might buy him a new fucking Hot Wheel.

I hit the call button, and it doesn’t even ring.

“Shay, Darren has her. She’s at the old mill outside Elizabeth.”

Shite. Elizabeth’s an hour from the city. Lord only knows what they’ve done to her in the time it’s taken to get our shite together. At least, it’s closer than Trenton.

“How do you know?”

“Because until today, it was useful knowing Darren was still alive. He crossed a line a long time ago that we didn’t know existed. He called me today. He bragged about having Tiernan and about selling her. He knew about the shit that happened with Maria and thought we’d be into it.”

Maria Mancinelli was kidnapped in Miami and almost sex trafficked by a Cuban. All the families helped each other because Misha Kutsenko’s sister-in-law was also a victim. Maria is neutral ground like Colleen was until Declan—Maria is the kindest soul alive. She’s nothing like her shitbag family. She was kind to all of us when we were growing up. She doesn’t like any of us now, but she’s the only one who’s still polite.

The Diazes role in saving her was playing along with their Cuban contact to find out where she was. Apparently, Darren doesn’t know the Diazes killed the fucker.

“What the fuck are you doing about this? Why are you already on your way and just now telling me?”

“Because I had a meeting with him before we found out he had your girlfriend. We were already on the road when Darren called to tell me to bring more money.”

“Tell me the rest later. Send me the address. What do you know about Zack Montgomery?”

I haven’t taken my eyes off the motherfucker since I tapped the call button. I watched fear enter his eyes when he realized who I was talking to.

“You know him?”

“He’s part of Tiera’s past. He’s been stalking her for three years.”

“Kill him.”

“I don’t take orders from you. Besides, he’s already dead.” Okay. Good as dead.

“He tried to seduce my aunt just last week. He heard she was a wealthy widow and targeted her. He wanted her to sign over her entire inheritance—from my grandfather and my uncle—but she refused and went to Tío Enrique straight away. He threatened her two days ago, so my uncle stepped in. He just ordered Tres J’s to pick him up tonight. They were going to take him to our place. If you’ve already done the work for us, I suppose I can thank you.”

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