Page 5 of Volatile Vice

But Mom and Dad’s house isn’t any safer. It’s less safe. Brick was killed there. Had his throat slit there. I shiver, trying to ease the chills by rubbing my arms.

Doesn’t work.

“All right,” I say, willing my voice not to shake. “I’m coming home, Dad. I’m coming home.”

“I don’t want you driving alone. I’m coming to get you.”

I swallow. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“You stay put. I’ll be there in ten. Do not move, Raven. Do. Not. Move.” The line clicks off.

I crawl back on my bed, clutching my knees to my chest.

Poor Brick… If only he’d gotten my text in time.

If I’d remembered to text him earlier, he wouldn’t have shown up at my house at all.

But as horrible as I feel about Brick, I’m equally ecstatic that Mom and Dad were out for the evening. What if my father was the true target? What if…

And why did Vinnie leave in the middle of the night without waking me?

I grab my phone again and dial Vinnie.

Only to get his voicemail.

I open my mouth to say something, but no words emerge.

I can’t bring myself to tell him that Brick is dead in my bed.

I can’t…

No.

Not until I see it.

I have to see it.

My mom and dad wouldn’t lie to me, but still…I have to see it.

Why didn’t Vinnie answer?

I clutch my knees again, shaking.

And feeling completely and utterly alone.

2

VINNIE

Several hours earlier…

I don’t drive home to my mother’s home. Or my grandfather’s.

Instead, I changed into the clothes I left in my rental car—dark denim jeans and a black hoodie. A black baseball cap on my head, thin cotton gloves that I’ll put on later. In the middle of the night, I drive to Houston—to the hotel where Giacomo Puzo should now be dead in his room.

The Carlton Deluxe Downtown is the most expensive hotel in Houston.

Nothing but the best for Puzo and his Colombian deals.

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