Page 48 of Chicago Sin
“Whatcha got for me?”
“Nah, nothing. I’m staying legit, but I wondered if you could help me with some information.”
He pauses. I know nothing in this world comes free. There will be a price for anything I get from Luis. “What info?”
“There’s a hit on me. Wondered if you’d heard about it?”
“Nah, I don’t know anything about that. Who do you think it is?”
“I’m guessing the Hermanos. I had a run-in with one of their members on the inside. Could you find out if I’m right?”
“Yeah, I’ll ask around. This your new number?”
“For the time being.”
“‘Kay. Be in touch.”
I hang up and open the back door to the alley, feeling restless. Something got me thinking this morning that it might not be the Hermanos at all. Seems like they’d do a drive-by with a bunch of guys and automatic weapons. That was more their style. Sending a single guy to plug me on the corner screams hired hit. And why would they hire a hit when they’re all perfectly capable of killing me themselves?
Only two reasons you hire a hit: you aren’t a killer yourself, or you don’t want it known you’re responsible. And when I say don’t want it known, I don’t mean proven. I’m not talking about cops knowing. I mean known on the street.
Say Don Pachino puts a hit out on someone. He’s sending a message. He wants everyone on the street to know he’s responsible for it. I would think the same goes for the Hermanos. The message would be don’t fuck with our guys in prison or on the outside.
So a hired mercenary coming after me seems strange.
I don’t like it. And it gets me thinking maybe I have more to worry about than I thought.
And now I’m getting fucking paranoid.
Like thinking I shouldn’t have ordered from Gio’s last night. People know me there. The owner would know my name. And I used a debit card, which means now they have me connected to Hannah’s address. So I might’ve ruined my plan of laying low at her place.
It’s the reason I took her van to a random mechanic this morning. I know mechanics. Guys who would give me a great deal on it or even do the work for free. But there is no way I’m gonna link Hannah and her business to my name. She’s already in this shit deep enough. If something happened to her because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
I watch her at her workbench, putting together new arrangements. She’s talented. And in over her head.
I want to help her.
It’s the first thing I’ve been clear on—apart from wanting to fuck her—since I got out. First thing that’s generated even a spark of interest.
Too bad me getting involved with her business is the worst idea. If I really did care about her business, I’d stay way the hell away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hannah
My stomach is in a knot up under my ribs. Or maybe that’s my diaphragm on lock-down. Must be because I can’t really breathe. My stress level shot to freak-out mode when Armando was asking me about the business.
Tears prick my eyes as I make up bouquets I don’t need. Working with the flowers is the only thing that makes me happy here, though. I mean, it makes me happy in general—that’s why I gave up my scholarship to nursing school—my mom’s plan for me—to buy the flower shop. Flowers make me happy. I like their colors, their delicate textures, their smells. I love that I get to work with such a beautiful medium and use my eye and creativity in the arrangements.
College didn’t suit me. I may have been a straight-A student, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it. No, when Mary Alice approached me to take over, I wanted this more than anything in the world.
But now it seems like I made a huge mistake.
Armando walks in from the back door, and I frown at him. There’s a little bit of hate rattling around in me toward him right now.
I know it’s not his fault, but he told me the thing I’ve been hiding from myself for the last six months. I made a huge mistake buying Garden of Eden. I gave up my education and sure-thing career, and now I am going to lose everything.
“Hey.” He leans a hip against the bench and watches me. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off.”
