Page 60 of Delivered in White

“Right, right. The merchandizing incident.” He scratches the back of his head, yawning.

“Is it handled?”

“Told you this morning, Trino. I got it. Chased that prick down and recovered all the uh—the jewelry, our girl Phira was wearing. Made sure Santo ran ’em down.”

“Pretty Eyes? You sent Pretty Eyes after him?” I can’t contain my smile. It’s a good move, honestly. The kid wants to prove himself as an up-and-comer. Why not send him on an errand a little higher than his paygrade?

“He did good, boss. Really. May have caught a black eye, ironically, but came back with all the, hm—all the goods.”

I nod. “Good to hear it. We talking a one-off issue, or were we targeted?”

“You’re not going to like this part.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “The prick was Mexicano. I think the cartel sent him as a message since they’re trying to rival us in this business. Santo beat it out of him. JerryUndercutGomez.”

He’s right. Idon’tlike that. It took a lot of negotiating to keep them off my back for the last few years. To think they’re trying to brazenly test the waters at a time like this?Shit.

“But don’t worry. You say the word, I – I’ll handle it.”

He wants to step up. That’s good becauseIwant to step up too, and I need an aggressive crew to climb right behind me.

“Yeah, handle it. Now that we caught him, he’ll show up to Gomez empty-handed, and he’ll know we’re onto him. Keep that in mind when you plot a next move. Keep the attack low-level so he and I can retain the bullshit level of plausible deniability. We don’t need a fucking all-out war right now.”

“Yeah, about that, boss,” he stammers. “Worried about the word on the street.”

“Wait for Bruno and MikeyToolsbefore we start down that path.”

He pinches his nose. “Those two beefcakes are sleeping with their thumbs up their asses.”

I cackle at the image.

“It’s barely the afternoon.” He spreads his arms. “It’s like you forget we run night businesses with the owls. Not everyone can function on an hour’s sleep like you. Motherfuck. What do you—um, hm – what, do you sleep every time you blink?”

Snaps’ rants are comical. He’s a good guy to have around. Little dim with the way he stumbles halfway through his sentences, but otherwise, he’s all fucking there.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Speak of the devil.” I nod toward the security screen stationed in the top corner of the room showing my two top guys waving their hands at each other by the front door.

“I’ll get it.” Snaps gets up. “Good thing I didn’t place a bet ’bout the thumb in the ass thing, huh?”

“Eyyy.”Bruno walks in with his arms open. “My little string bean.”

“Yeah, hello to you too, my big meatball.” Snaps hugs him back.

“Watch your mouth, kid.” Mikey Tools points his finger in Snaps’ face, both platinum rings shining. “I don’t want to hear no comments about my growing belly. Too early in the day for that.”

“How about that – umm – how ’bout that patchy beard then. Still can’t grow there, huh?” Snaps starts cracking up, then pretends to be scared when Mikey puts him in a headlock.

“It’s a scar, you dumb fuck.” Mikey cackles. “Never going to grow hair there, just like you’re never gonna get any on your sack.”

Bruno waddles up to me and offers his cheek, then sits next to me. “Morning, Knots.”

“Belly.” I nod at him. You’d think he got the first part of his street name from overeating or something, but actually, it’s because he loves to raspberry strippers. You know, when you blow on someone’s stomach to make that stupid farting noise. Thought only parents did that to kids, but I guess everyone has their kink, right? Bruno fuckin’ Belly Stunad.

He snaps for the other two buffoons to come take their seats. “Ey!C’mon. You can wrestle in your bunkbeds later, boys.”

Mikey tosses Snaps onto the couch, and takes his seat farthest from me. His face is red from manhandling the guy. He may be a little out of shape, but don’t let him fool you – the prick is dangerous. He ran six warehouses that supplied to Home Depot back in the day, before they bought him out. He kicked up commissions to all the bosses involved and could’ve sat home pretty for the rest of his days as an advisor to the family. But that doesn’t suit him. He likes boots on the ground.

“So, uh, we know why we’re all here, boss.” Snaps dips his head a bit. “The heats gettin’ hot. Is the Glove okay?”

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