Page 20 of Gangster Daddy's Girl

I’m not stupid. I know those two little dipshits are going to try to jack me and then put two in the back of my head the same way they did with my guys. They know they can’t leave me alive after this. I don’t know if they anticipate me knowing their plan. I got here a little early and scouted the area just to make sure they didn’t have any friends hiding out waiting to get the drop on me. They didn’t. That suggests to me that they really think they can pull this off on their own.

That makes them stupider than I thought.

I turn the volume up when one of my favorites by John Coltrane comes on. The music helps settle my nerves. I’m not afraid for me. I’ve never been somebody who’s been afraid to die. Being in this life tends to condition that fear out of you pretty quickly. Plus, I’m not afraid of those two shitheads getting the drop on me. They couldn’t take me on their best day and my worst. They are going to get fucked up tonight; there is no question about it.

No, my nerves are frayed because I can’t stop seeing the image of Tabitha in my mind’s eye. The look of wide-eyed fear on her face was seared into my brain. She never asked to be pulled into this life. In fact, she told me she couldn’t date me because she specifically wanted to stay out of it. And now, here she was, with her life on the line because of the decisions I’ve made in my life. It kills me knowing she was taken because of me. That she’s been subjected to whatever those two pricks have done to her because of me. That her life is in danger because of me.

I’m not afraid for me. I’m enraged because of what they’ve done to her.

A pair of headlights appears at the far end of the parking lot and slowly cruises toward me. Gritting my teeth, doing my best to control the rage flowing through my veins like wildfire, I get out of the Escalade. Opening the back door, I grab the pair of duffel bags on the back seat and walk to the front of my vehicle and drop the bags at my feet.

Rico’s car stops about forty yards in front of me, the bright headlights making me wince. The engine shuts off, and a moment later, so do the headlights, casting the world around us in the inky gloom once more. Both doors open, and I watch as Dawson gets out from behind the wheel. Rico, holding a .45 in his hand, gets out of the passenger side. We stand in silence, juststaring at each other for a long moment like gunfighters on a dusty street at high noon.

“That the money?” Rico asks, a slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice.

I nod but don’t say anything. He’s nervous but is doing a good job of hiding it. Dawson, not so much. The man is jittery and almost drops his 9mm Glock when he pulls it out of his waistband. It’s all I can do to keep from laughing at him. These boys are not cut out for this shit.

“Where’s the product?” Rico calls.

“In a warehouse.”

“I told you to bring it?—”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” I reply. “There’s too much to bring. I’ll give you the key.”

“A-all right. Then throw those bags and the keys over here.”

“Let me see Tabitha first.”

“You don’t make the rules here.”

“You want the money? You show me the girl,” I say. “If you’re going to take over my business, the first thing you need to learn is that a man needs to keep his word. You don’t, word gets around, and pretty soon, you’ll find yourself alone and surrounded by enemies rather than friends.”

“That’s nice and all, but you don’t seem to be surrounded by friends right now, do you?”

I shrug. “Give me the girl, and we’ll be on our way.”

Rico hesitates but then nods to Dawson. I watch as he walks to the rear door of his car and opens it. He reaches inside and pulls Tabitha out. Her wrists are bound with plastic cuffs, and she’s got a gag in her mouth. She looks rough. Exhausted. Watching how they treat her makes the rage flowing through my veins burn dangerously hot. As if sensing that I’m about to blow, Rico shrugs.

“She did it to herself. Didn’t follow instruction,” he says.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Rico.”

“It’s done. Get over it,” he says. “Now, I’ve kept up my end. You keep yours up.”

Suppressing the growl in my throat, I pick up the duffels and toss them as far as I can. They’re heavy as shit and land halfway between us. It’s good enough. After that, I pull out a small key fob and toss it onto one of the bags.

“There. You’ve got your shit,” I say. “Send her over.”

“Sorry, chief. That’s not going to happen,” Rico laughs. “Damn, Tyson. You really aren’t as smart as I thought you were. But don’t you worry, I’m going to take real good care of this sweet piece of ass for you.”

He starts to raise his gun when the sharp crack of a shot rings out, shattering the stillness of the night air around us. Dawson’s head snaps back violently, and he falls to the ground, dead before he hits the pavement with a wet thud. Tabitha’s scream is muffled by the gag, and she falls to her knees, her face draining of color.

At the sound of the shot, Rico turns to see his friend’s head dissolve into a red mist. Realizing his mistake, he begins to turntoward me again. Moving in one swift, fluid motion, I pull my gun from the holster at the small of my back and take aim.

“You fucked up, Rico,” I say.

I smoothly squeeze off a pair of shots and watch as the first round punches through his throat, with the second hitting him square in the chest. He drops to his knees, his weapon clattering to the ground beside him uselessly. He lets out a wet, gurgling noise and grabs at his ruined throat. Marco slips out of his sniper’s nest and joins me. Together, we walk across the parking lot. I kick Rico’s gun away as we stand over him, staring at him coldly.

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