Page 2 of Escape You

“Yes and no. I'm keeping the deal Uncle Mickey had scheduled. I need you to smooth things over with the cartel and remind them that their shipment will be delivered on time, just like Uncle Mickey promised.”

The sunspots on Vic’s face turned a shade darker as he pursed his lips. He looked pissed, and he wasn’t wrong. Especially since Uncle Mickey ended up dead because of that same contract with the Sonoran cartel. But there was more to it. Uncle Mickey hadn’t been all that innocent. He tried to screw them over, and things quickly escalated into an all-out shootout right outside this gym, which also served as my office and one of the warehouses we used to store and assemble AR-15s.

“There’s no way we can put together that many ARs in a month.” Vic stood, bracing his hands on his hips.

“That’s just it. They’re already here and fully assembled to the modifications the cartel wanted. If we can get them to keep their end of the bargain, we’ll get rid of the inventory and get paid.”

“Why in the hell did he tell them he needed more money to get the rest of the guns in?”

“Why do you think, Vic? You’d been gone for a long time. Uncle Mickey was losing it toward the end.”

I owed Uncle Mickey my life. After Dad died, he took me in and taught me everything I knew. He was old school and never had any intention of letting me run the family business. Bit by bit, I convinced him to teach me and let me do a few runs for him. In the end, he’d agreed because he thought it was cute. What would he think now that I’d become the only person who could keep this family together?

“Okay. You win. Let me see if I can get you a private meeting with select council members. If we can get the majority on our side, the rest of the council members won’t object.”

“Once I have their blessing, our trucks will get free range.” I smiled at him. The most important thing right now was to get back to business as usual. “As soon as we get paid, the guys will see I can make them money. Everything will go back to normal. We’ll be a family again.”

Vic nodded with a gleam in his eye. He’d come back after ten years because he missed his home, his family. He’d do anything to get it all back. “The city council is one thing. You also need the streets.”

“I know. I already reached out to a couple of bosses I think might stand behind me.”

I kept picturing all of them circling my warehouses like vultures keen on the fresh carcass on the ground. But they all had to see that if the Rogue River crew fell, another would follow, and then another until we were all in a full-on gang war. Keeping the status quo was to everyone’s benefit.

“You have to consider they might ask for more than a handshake.”

“What? Like protection money? I’m not doing that. Uncle Mickey never had to do that. That’s why we have guns.”

“We don’t want a war, Mia.” He cleared his throat. “The bonds of marriage are strong. No one would question your authority if you were to marry someone with influence.”

“Are you shitting me right now? Is this some of that sound advice you were talking about earlier? Because it sucks.” I paced the length of the office. I got that our family business started a long time ago, that it was based on a code invented by men. Hell, I was willing to jump through hoops to prove my worth. But tethering myself to some guy just to gain respect? That was a fucking insult. “This is a fucking insult. Don’t bring it up again.”

“Yes, Boss.” His tone implied I wasn’t boss yet.

I fisted my hands and spun in place, looking for my gun. When I grabbed it off the desk, Vic shuffled away from me, his eyes wide.

“I’m not going to shoot you for speaking your mind. That’s why you’re here.” Whoever started this idea that women were volatile creatures should be shot. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Since I took over, I had the strong urge to shoot every mofo who dared question my ability to do business. I stuffed the gun in my pants and pulled my tank top over it. “I’m going out. After this hell of a week, I need a stiff drink.”

“Don’t stay out too late. If I get a meet with the councilor, it’ll be before business hours.”

“Just text me the time.” I stomped out of the office.

In all these years I had fantasized about following in Uncle Mickey’s footsteps and doing right by the family, I never considered my own people wouldn’t want me. It hurt because I’d assumed I was one of the guys.

I climbed into my red Porsche and drove out of the parking lot to a bar at the edge of Rogue River. Most of my crew stayed away from that dive because it was too close to the next town and their visits, more often than not, ended in a bar fight. They only came over during the day to do business when necessary. This was another one of my warehouses, managed by my best friend Allie.

I parked out front and strode in. The bartender smiled at me as soon as she saw me. Allie was good company.

“Hey, lady boss.”

“Not you too.”

She shrugged. “That’s what they’re calling you.”

“I’d take it if they meant it.”

She chuckled and poured my drink: vodka, soda, lime. “Just last week, you weren’t even on the radar. Girl, take it.”

Of course, Allie was right. This pity party of one wasn’t helping anyone. I sipped from my glass and waited for the alcohol to work its magic. “Sorry. Rough week. Had five of my guys go off on their own.”

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