Page 27 of Choices

Before I understand what he's doing, Rico slides a card into my hand.

"I have a standing reservation at the Loft. Use it whenever you like."

I look down at the card. It's matte black with shiny gold lettering that says 'The Loft', with a name and a phone number below it - a concierge if I'm guessing. The Loft is one of the most expensive hotels in the city, its elegance and opulence are unmatched.

I go to press it back in his hand. "I can't..." I start, but he presses his finger to my lips.

"You can. And you will."

And with that, he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before he and the boys say their goodbyes and leave.

Well, then.

Chapter eight

Santiago

The tension in the air is palpable. How we'd gone from such a relaxing, enjoyable morning with Hannah and her kids to this cluster fuck is beyond me. After we'd left Hannah, looking gorgeous and slightly shocked at whatever Rico's proposal was, Rico had gotten a call from Johnson, our cop inside Arlington, PD.

This morning, while we were relaxing for the first time in ages, the FBI was raiding our hanger. We're not dumb enough to leave anything incriminating there, but it's more heat and more attention we don't need right now.

We're in Rico's office at the Vault. Rico's behind his desk, a tired scowl on his face. Matty and Detective Johnson lounge on the couch, while I lean against the wall in my usual place. Diego has pulled a chair in from somewhere and completed our little circle of misfits.

"Alright, so we can assume the FBI got tipped off by the Italians? Vitale?"

Three heads nod. "I can confirm with my buddy at the Bureau, but I'd like to not draw attention to it just yet. I still think it's safe to say they're your number one enemy."

"Alright, so why the hanger? Why the warehouse?"

Uncomfortable silence settles between us.

"Leaving contraband in a hanger is rookie shit. They should know us better than that. And that warehouse was our smallest one. And a risky hit, at that, being so close to the marina. And neither location really hits usfinancially. If they wanted to hurt us financially they'd hit the Vault, or one of our suppliers."

Johnson leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What if it's not about hurting you, but about the locations specifically?"

Rico and Diego share a look.

"Look, if we mapped out your locations and flow of operations, and Vitale's, what do you guys have or do that they don't? Maybe they want to take those locations from you."

Rico seems to consider this. "The hanger and the warehouse are straight shots to 95 - which gives them easy and covert access to the entire East Coast. Easier than what they have being in Maryland."

Matty nods. It makes sense. No matter how Vitale moves, he has a bottleneck from his part of Maryland - a bridge or essential Highway that could easily be roadblocked or monitored for his movements. 95 though? Is a fucking free-for-all, with route 1 zig-zagging through it, so if there's a blockade or monitor on 95 it's super easy to dump out onto 1 and avoid it.

"So we can assume he wants access to the entire east coast - and then maybe the rest of the US, or internationally, if he targeted the hanger?"

"Last I knew, the Vitale's didn't have an airstrip, or any plane access, but my sources could be old."

"What is he moving that needs such distance? He takes in his contraband via boat, and as far as I know his reach is just his portion of Maryland. What else has he gotten involved in?"

Another pregnant pause.

I type in my phone. "I don't like it. He's escalating.Attacking the warehouse is one thing, easy enough to blame it on an electrical fire, but dumping an OD'd body? That brings in the DEA. Now the FBI's in our hanger. Working with the government puts HIM on their radar as well. What's worth having the DEA and FBI sniffing around? Something bigger than a baggy of weed."

More heavy silence.

A gnawing feeling sits in the pit of my stomach. I type again. "If he's escalating, he'll be targeting our people next. People we've been seen in public with?"

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