Page 47 of Taking Care of the Target

Vince let his head drop against the unforgiving brick wall, knocking it back three times before resting it there and letting out an exhale. “I need to think, and if you keeping saying stupid shit like that I’ll let them rid me of you for good. Call me back in an hour.”

Why I stopped calling, my ass.Like Bobby ever called for any reason besides ones like this. Vince thought of his savings account—the account that was supposed to be hispossibility for somethingelse. Lately, he’d been thinking of possibilities that involved Cassie. That damned fictional little house in California or Texas kept popping up, even though he’d told himself it wasn’t an option.

But it’ddefinitelynot be an option if he didn’t have his savings to keep them afloat.

Take away twenty grand and the realm of possibilities narrowed considerably. Carlo would have that much in the safe in his office. All Vince had to do was walk in, tell his uncle that he was in, and he’d hand over the money. Actually, he’d probably make a call and settle for half the amount and no one would ever touch Bobby again, no matter how deep he got in with drug dealers. But this time, paying back Bobby’s debts wouldn’t mean a couple of months collecting money from local business owners for “protection” and shaking them down if they refused. It’d be running drugs and being on-call day and night to whatever Carlo wanted him to do.

It’d be keeping the guys in line, using his fists on a regular basis, and being onboard with selling drugs to kids who’d end up like Bobby.

Knowing when hits were going down and executing them.

Within a month or so, he’d probably become numb to it. Come home and kick back with a beer as if it’d been just a regular workday like Dad used to do. Eventually settle down, have a couple kids, and teach them to play catch until one of his or Carlo’s enemies gunned him down, if the backstabbing men in his crew didn’t get to him first.

Vince pushed off the building and paced up and down the sidewalk. He’d never pull Cassie into that life, and she’d never stand for it, so she’d be out of the picture for sure.

She’s out of the picture anyway.

For a brief moment, he entertained the thought of giving in. If he couldn’t have what he truly wanted, he might as well get the benefit of more power and more money. Just embrace who he was and own it.

The door of McCarthy’s opened, and Cassie stepped out. She shot him a heart-stopping smile as she walked up and looped her arms around his neck. Her lips touched his, and he closed his eyes, soaking her in while he could.

When she pulled back, her eyebrows scrunched together. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, waving off her question, but then she put her hand on the side of his face and moved in close enough that her chest bumped his. “Vince, I can tell something’s wrong. Talk to me.”

He crumpled like a two-dollar bill. “It’s my brother. He’s in trouble again.”

“You need to go help him out of it?”

He gave a caustic laugh. “You mean go enable him some more?” No matter what, Bobby was all he had, and he was his brother. He couldn’t let people hurt him, regardless of his many chances and screw-ups, and how many times it’d happen again. “I’m all he’s got. I can’t just leave him.”

“See?” she whispered. “Good guy. Is this where I say I told you so? Or is that insensitive under the circumstances?”

Despite everything, he smiled. Then he gathered her to him and hugged her. As furious as it made him to think of his brother tossing everything aside for his next fix, here he was doing the same. Only his drug of choice was a woman. He ran his nose across her cheek and pressed a kiss under her ear. She shivered and clung tighter to him.

“You’re still wrong about that, but right now I don’t really care.”

Once he released her, she readjusted her glasses. “So, where is he?” She winced. “Jail?”

“He’d probably be safer in jail.” It slipped out before Vince thought better of it, but it was the sad truth. “He’s in New York, and he owes people a lot of money.”

“I’m sure it’s not easy knowing what to do. But when it comes to people we love, we’ve just gotta help them and believe that someday they’ll change, right?” Cassie wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. He wondered if she could hear the way his heartbeat quickened with her there. “You go take care of it, and when you get back, I’ll cook you dinner, complete with lots of trick tossing and catching. You think it’ll just take a day, or will it be longer?”

It’d take at least three hours of driving back and forth, and who knew how long to take care of the people after Bobby, so probably most of tomorrow. And Vince would definitely have to go there—if Bobby even attempted to come here, they’d think he was running and beat him to the brink of death, if not send him on over. After all, it’d be what Carlo would do in the same situation.

Anger sparked again as he thought about Carlo putting him and Bobby in this situation. He wasn’t going to give his uncle the satisfaction of joining his ranks after he’d used Bobby as a disposable pawn in his grand chess game.

He ran his hand down Cassie’s back, pressing her closer, and thought about leaving her here, unwatched. Unprotected.

There was the supposed P.I. incident that still didn’t sit right with him. And what if that pig who was in love with her decided to show up and one of the boys saw her with him?

Or Carlo, heaven forbid. His sudden interest in where she worked dug at him, a scab he hadn’t been able to stop picking at since yesterday. He probably screwed up when he dodged his question and fudged the name of the restaurant.

Does he think I don’t have it handled?

He’d need his head in the game to save Bobby’s ass, but how was he supposed to do that if he was constantly worried about Cassie? Seriously, was anyonenotwatching her right now?

Maybe if she stayed home the entire time?Yeah, like she’ll listen to me just because I ask nicely. And demanding won’t work. She’ll tell me I need to trust her judgment.

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