Page 70 of Vincenzo
When we step out into the parking lot, I show Armando my phone. “Here’s the address. You want to meet me over there?”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“One more question—you don’t happen to have a set of nice knives, do you?”
Armando crosses his arms and lifts a humorous brow at me. “Of course I do, and yes, they’re in my car already.”
“Great, we’re going to need those.”
“Just so we’re on the same page, we’re going to find these guys, and then skin them alive for what they did to my cousin, right? Really draw out the process?.”
“Yup. Unless you have a better idea?” I ask, lifting a humorous brow back at him.
He slowly shakes his head. “Nope, my plans exactly. I was just checking to see if you’re as unhinged as my cousin.”
That pulls a chuckle out of me. “She does like to play with knives, doesn’t she?”
“I’m assuming you were on the receiving end of her most-prized possession at one point?”
“I was indeed,” I say, thinking back to when Amalia had me shoved up against my office door with her knife against my throat. My little hellion had no qualms with cutting me that night, and I get a little hard at the thought, if I’m being honest. There’s something fucking sexy as all hell about a woman taking charge and having your life in her hands like that. I might sound fucked, but Amalia can hold a blade to my throat any day.
Armando chuckles. “That sounds about right.” Then he takes off toward his car. “I’ll meet you at the address. I know the area. Park at the top of the street, and we’ll walk. It’s only a few houses down. It’s a rough area, so the neighbors keep to themselves. We won’t have any issues when things get a little loud.”
I smile to myself as I walk to my rental. Maybe Armando and I will get along just well.
When I get to the street these assholes live on, I pull up and park behind Armando’s orange McLaren.
I get out of my car and walk up to his. “I see we’re going for subtlety tonight,” I say, nodding to his car.
He laughs. “It’s my brother’s. Mine’s in the shop.”
“That the house?” I ask, pointing to the modular with a roof that’s about to cave in on itself.
“Yup. Let me grab my bag.”
Armando goes to the front of his car and takes out a bag that looks an awful lot like the bag Doc would bring to our house anytime he’s had to come over for a house call to stitch us up.
“You look like a doctor carrying around that thing,” I say to him.
“When you see what’s in here, you’re going to think I’m a surgeon.”
I laugh. “This is going to be fun, then.”
When we get to the front of the house, I peer into the large window that gives me a view of their living room. There are twoguys sitting on the sofa, cutting some white powder on the little glass table.
“That’s probably payment they received from my dad,” Armando says.
That’s right. The Velascos also specialize in drug trafficking.
“They look like the guys on the security footage?”
“Definitely. They both have long hair, and the idiots who stood and rooted on their friend while he tried to suffocate Amalia didn’t bother to stuff their hair in their masks.”
“You said there were three in total, right?”
“Yep. The other one was stabbed.”
“Stabbed? Why am I not surprised.” He chuckles.
