Page 71 of Bitter Arrangement

Slowly, he gives me the story. He talks about a guy he met named Marcus who had a solid plan put together. There was a small casino on the edge of town with some lax security practices, and Marcus knew how to exploit it. Brenden and a few other guys were brought in to help pull it off.

“Things went to plan at first,” my brother says as steam rises from his coffee cup. He cradles it in both hands. “We hit the money drop and used the manager’s key card to slip into the back. That’s where they kept the real cash. I filled my bag the way I was supposed to while the other guys did the same. Once we were loaded up, we were supposed to get out of there. But instead, and I swear I don’t know how, a fire got started. It caught the leftover cash we couldn’t fit in our bags, and the whole back room went up in seconds. It was madness. The smoke alarms went off, sprinklers turned on, the whole place went on lockdown. The other guys panicked, but I had enough sense to go for the door. The key card still worked, and I slipped out, but I guess I didn’t leave it open long enough because by the time I looked back, nobody had followed me out. I swear, Riley, I never would’ve left them behind, but I was choking on smoke, and I thought they were following.”

He stops his story. I know where this is going. He told me a thousand times: never, ever,everlet partners get caught. If there’s absolutely no other choice and everyone’s running, that’s one thing. At that point, it’s every man for himself.

But you don’t fuck over your crew. A thief that lets his crew get thrown in jail won’t stay a thief for long. Nobody wants to work with a guy like that.

And most thieves have friends, and most friends like revenge.

“They think you set the fire,” I say softly.

He nods, looking miserable. “It’s the fucking Los Sombras cartel. They’re the ones bankrolling the operation. If I had known from the start, I never would’ve touched the job, but Marcus swore he was running it alone. Motherfucker screwed me. The other guys got pinched, and they didn’t roll on me, but they did tell their friends on the outside what happened. And they made it very clear that I’m the reason they’re all in prison.”

“Oh, shit, Brenden,” I say with real sympathy.

“I know.” He musters a smile and gestures at his face. “Now you know why this isn’t a big deal.”

I nod slowly.

What he means is a little beating is nothing compared to what they’re going to do to him.

“Why haven’t they, you know—” I gesture at him.

“Killed me yet? They think I have the money still, and they want that before they put me in the ground.”

“Do you?”

He shakes his head. “If I did, I’d be gone. You think I’d come back here? I thought maybe Liam might protect me, but you know how it goes. If you take outside work and that work blows up in your face, it’s all on you.”

“Shit.” I stand up and stomp around the kitchen, pacing again. I can’t help myself. I can’t stay still when I’m all emotional like this. “Shit, shit, shit. That fucker Liam.”

“Come on, Riley, don’t be like that. We both know he’s not going to war with the cartel over me even if that wasn’t the policy.” He smiles weakly. “I’ll figure out how to handle this.”

We both know that’s bullshit.

If Los Sombras wants him dead, then he’s dead. I can’t say I know a ton about them, but that’s because nobody does. They’re mysterious, like the shadows in their name, thesombras. If they say Brenden has to die, then he’s going to die.

Only they’ll torture him first. Beating after beating after beating, until it escalates. They won’t stop until he gives them the money, whether he has it or not.

And then he’s still dead.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” I sit down heavily across from him again. I want to throw myself around the room. I want to break dishes.

I’m tempted to tell him about Mantis, but I don’t need him stressing about me.

Funny though, how we’re both fucked in different ways.

All thanks to our thieving.

“I told you, I’ll figure it out. Los Sombras isn’t as bad as everyone pretends. It’s just a reputation thing.” He smiles, trying to act brave.

I don’t believe it for a second.

“You need to tell someone. We need to help you. Maybe Alexan and the Brotherhood?—”

“Won’t stick their neck out for some random Irish guy, brother-in-law or not.” He stands with a grunt and carries the plates to the sink. “Come on, Riles. Let’s hang out for a little while and act like shit’s normal, okay?”

“Brenden—”

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