Page 84 of Fighting Conviction
Sheriff slapped his hand on Neal’s shoulder, stabbing little needles into his skin. But he at least had the wherewithal to know he couldn’t sucker punch his boss, so he shoved his hands in his pockets and grunted instead.
“Yes, sir.” Head bowed, Neal marched past the sheriff down the end of the hall, bumping into yet another pompous prick on his way to the hotel exit. Ignoring the reprimands, whispers, and chatter droning on around him, Neal continued toward the exit to the alleyway where he’d parked his vehicle.
When he was finally outside and in front of his patrol car, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Now out of earshot, he pressed the button on his chest and called the Russian as he paced in front of his vehicle.
“What do you want?” The low gruff voice on the other end irritated Neal’s eardrums, and he tried not to focus on the delayed echo of the small orchestra in the ballroom.
“I’ve been waitin’ for one of your men, to get the stuff for the information I gave you, but there’s been a problem—” He didn’t want to tell the Russian why he was leaving. That’d be humiliating, and there was no way he’d get his medicine if the Russian thought he was a liability like the sheriff did. “I have to step out for a little while—”
“For the last time, I do not give a fuck what you do. I have to go—”
“But the-the bag… one of your goons is supposed to get me a bag. I did everything you asked. You got your women in the room—”
“Neal, shut the fuck up—”
“—is it because I didn’t get you more? I-I can get you more.” He cringed at the thought but it had to be done. “You have this p-party tonight. But I can get you more women, Mr. Rusnak—”
“Do not ever use my name.” The rushed whisper hissed through the phone and Neal bit his cheek so hard at his slipup, he tasted metal. “Neal, if you do not shut the fuck up I will come find you and personally rip your tongue out of your head.” Neal swallowed at the gory vision in his head.
But he could get on their good side again, if he got them more women. That’d be good. They’d probably supply him for life. Like they’d promised once before. He wouldn’t even need rehab then.
There was a sigh on the other end before the Russian continued. “If you go home like a good little soldier… I will have Vlad drop something off for you.”
Neal nodded at a speed that felt like his head was going to bobble off. “Yes, sir. I’ll go right home.” The Russian hung up and Neal pressed the button on his chest again before pocketing his phone.
Easy enough. He just had to go home.
But was that really all they wanted him to do? Was this actually a test? If he followed their orders blindly, would they come through? Last year when they’d framed Jason Stone, Neal had been kept out of the loop and only on a need-to-know basis. Neal had trusted them without question as they’d fed him lies about Stone being the perp he’d wanted. Turns out, Neal and Stone had both been easy scapegoats to ensure the Russian could get off scot-free.
Sheriff was right about last year. When Neal realized he’d been taken for a fool, and that his other employers had been funneling women in and out of his county right under his nose, he spiraled. Taken more pills than he ever had before.
The operation he’d signed on for was never supposed to go that route. Just drugs. Last year he’d realized it didn’t stop there. Now he was too wrapped up in it all to stop anything. Somewhere deep in his mind, he knew selling his soul for his next hit was gonna kill him one way or another. But if he was going to go up in flames, he was going to take every goddamn one of those demons down with him.
Until then, he would do whatever he had to do to stay alive. And goddamnit, he needed his medicine. He was losing himself every second he suffered without it.
“You lost yourself a long, long time ago, Neal.”
“Shut up, Cici.” He growled. He had to think of something to get the Russians back on his side. First, he needed to go home so Vlad would drop off what he needed.
He kicked the tire of his patrol vehicle. A glimpse of gold shined in his periphery, stopping him in his tracks. It took him a second to register who the young woman was, staring at her phone, until the glow of her cell phone lit her face in the waning evening light.
It was the same woman who could single-handedly take him down. The one the Russians might still be interested in. His ticket to getting back in their good graces. He realized what he had to do and rested his hand on the butt of his gun.
“Hello, Miss Stone.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Fuck man, I almost offed you.” Hawk lowered the gun but quickly shifted back to join Phoenix in front of room 307. Not having time to worry he’d almost had a GSW to the head, Devil pulled his gun from its shoulder holster and followed Hawk’s lead, getting on the other side of the door across from him. They usually cleared rooms with a four-man team, but three would have to do.
He tuned into the yelling on the other side. The sound of flesh meeting flesh was followed by a muffled scream.
“Gotta go, Snake,” Hawk whispered and Dev turned his earpiece on again to hear the reply.
“I can’t override the system again, someone’s locked the door back—”
Devil stepped out from his post beside the door and kicked left of the doorknob. He ducked low for balance and below normal aiming height. The door swung open and hit the opposing wall.
“One, hallway!” Devil shouted and Hawk pivoted around the door into the room and ran at the man Devil had indicated. Screams filled Devil’s eardrums. Hawk pushed the tall man in black against the wall and shouted as Phoenix followed suit as their number two.
