Page 46 of Taking Care of the Target

“It’s me,” he said. “What’s the name of that place the waitress works now?”

“Cassie?” Sal asked, and Carlo clenched his jaw and prayed for strength. Carlo might have a clean phone but Sal was on his regular cell. Before he could say anything more, Sal added, “McCarthy’s Steak and Seafood.”

“Okay, that’s all I needed.”

“Is something going on?” Sal asked. This was why he’d wanted the information from Vince—no follow up questions.

“Just take care of your rounds.” Carlo hung up. For a moment he wondered if he’d heard wrong, but he was sure he hadn’t. Maybe Vince had slipped up since he was distracted—he certainly didn’t call back to clear it up, though. Then again, he had to know how easy it’d be for him to find out.

Carlo raked his fingers through his hair.

Well, intentional or not, he was sick of playing this game. Time to take some options away. He’d been getting a ton of complaints from New York lately about Bobby, angry calls about not being able to teach the kid a lesson in respect.

Carlo held them off, but putting out the message that Bobby wasn’t under his protection anymore would send the sharks circling the bloody water, fighting to take the first bite.

Within a day or two, Vince would be begging him to take them both in.

And while he was busy with Bobby, maybe Carlo would make a visit toMcCarthy’shimself and see just how much Cassie remembered.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Vince was pulling up to McCarthy’s to pick up Cassie when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but between the restaurant and Carlo and his crew, that happened a lot. Ever since his uncle’s odd phone call yesterday he’d been on edge, dread going though him whenever the phone rang.

Maybe that was why a sense of foreboding unfurled in his gut. He climbed out of the Jeep and hit the lock button on his key fob as he answered. “Hello?”

“Vince, it’s me.”

That familiar voice explained the foreboding. Vince couldn’t remember the last time his brother called without that tinge of panic in his voice. He leaned against the pale brick exterior of McCarthy’s and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, Bobby?”

“What? No nice to hear from you?” Offense dripped from his words, but they both knew any second he’d get to the point, and it’d be bad. “Fine, you’re right. I’m in trouble.”

“Which city jail are you in now? I don’t even know where you’ve been living these days.”

“New York. And I’m not in jail, but apparently I’m no longer under Carlo’s family protection plan. Did you know about that?”

The edges of the phone dug into Vince’s palm as he gripped it tighter. Before he cracked it in half, he forced himself to relax. “He’s trying to get me to join him again. I didn’t think he’d go this far.” He swallowed, scared to ask but knowing he had to. “How bad is it?”

“I owe some people. Bad people. I just need a little loan to get me by. I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“The only payback I ever get is being indebted to Carlo. You let him bail you out and pay off your debts, then you disappear and I end up doing jobs I really don’t like just to keep you alive. You never learn because I keep stepping in to save your ass. You’re going to have to grow up sometime. Now’s as good a time as any.”

“I can’t grow up when I’m dead.” The panic merged with desperation, transferring through the phone until Vince’s nerves stretched paper-thin. “I already called Carlo, and he said he was done with me. That he wouldn’t lend me a dime, and if I wanted that to change, I’d have to talk to you.”

Angry heat wound through Vince’s body, and he gritted his teeth until his jaw ached. So much for thinking his uncle wasn’t a heartless bastard. He’d never resorted to methods this low before. Either something bad had happened, or Carlo was sick of waiting for an answer. Both spelled trouble for Vince… and even more for Bobby.

Vince peered through the large window of McCarthy’s, searching for Cassie’s blond head. It probably didn’t pan out so well for her, either.

“How much?” Vince asked, holding his breath as he waited for the undoubtedly shitty answer.

“Ten will buy me some time. Twenty will keep them off for good.”

“Twenty grand? Where the fuck am I supposed to get twenty grand?”

“I just need ten. I…I’ll find a way to get the rest. Somehow.”

Sure he would. More like he’d use the time to get a head start at running, then call Vince when they caught up. Then it’d be twenty all over again.

“If you want to let them kill youronlybrother, I understand,” Bobby said, although panic pinched the words, leaving his attempted lightheartedness too flat. “At least now you’ll know why I stopped calling.”

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