Page 28 of Vengeful Eyes
Luca looks at me as I get out, eyes full of the same hatred I’m filled with, and then drives the car off towards Philly. He’s my main guy now Tony’s gone, the only one I can trust to report back truthfully and keep the new runs going out. I've doubled them up, trying to counter the shit I've just lost. It's fucking annoying, and the very reason I'm here now. I watch him go and then scan the street, noting a car with two guys I don’t know leaning on it. I stare until one of them looks at me and nods, lighting a smoke. Hmm. Must be new.
My feet head up the steps, eyes directed at this old school I’m going back into. The wind whips by me as Gorgio opens the door, ruffling my coat and sending a shiver of interest through me. It’s reminiscent of times gone by here, sharp and harsh. Just like those years I walked up these stairs with my father. My body ached to cause carnage back then.
Does again now.
“They here?” I ask, nodding at Gorgio.
“Yeah,” he says, scraping his fingers under his nose. Still using then. I shake my head and look into the corridor as he follows in behind me. Eight men stand around the hall, others filtering in and out of doorways and up the stairs. “Came fifteen minutes ago.”
“And the others? How many in total?”
“Thirty. Balin and Constantine are still coming in from Boston.” I arch a brow at that as I wander through, eyes looking at each and every one of them around me. They all nod back, some show of fucking deference in my presence. Good. Still, no one is to be trusted at the moment, especially not the two cunts who couldn’t get here on time. “They were dealing with something.” Were they?
“What?”
“Trafficking issues. Someone caused problems with their pipeline over there, too.”
Sounds familiar.
I turn into the main room and see a ruckus at the table, Gianni Ricci facing Quinn off for some reason. Interesting. I watch on, listening to the hush that drops the moment I appear. Nathan looks at me, not one fucking quiver in his frame as he backs his brother up. Family. It’s a family of two that will be dead in this room if I ask for it.
“You sit your goddamn ass down before I forget I should be helping you,” Quinn growls. I half smirk, amused. Thirty odd guys, all on my payroll, and he stands there and tosses his balls around like he doesn’t give a fuck?
Italian pours out of Gianni, his hand going for his gun. It’s full of threats and digs neither Cane will give one fuck for, and the second his hand reaches under his suit, Nathan has his own piece out aimed at the dick. I look around at the eruption of noise that follows, weapons and safeties being loaded and released, my men all raising their own pieces back at him.
Quinn smiles, dice spinning in his fingers.
“Keep pulling that fucker out. See where that shit gets you,” he says, staring Gianni down. Arrogant son of a bitch. “We’ve taken more than this room on before.”
I look around, watching triggers and men, a slight smile on my face. I wish it wasn’t there. Tony’s dead. But something about these Cane boys brings all the physicality back. It bleeds inside my veins, waking up a chaos I've calmed over the years, and I need that right now. I need that headspace, not the lull I’ve lived since taking over.
Nathan twitches, his hand not quite as steady as it should be. He’s still wound far too tight for this, and that isn’t useful to me.
“You know how to use that?” I ask him, cutting through the silence that’s settled. Quinn doesn’t take his stare off Gianni, doesn’t even flinch. He just keeps those goddamn dice going. But Nathan looks at me briefly, eyes hard and focused on protecting his brother if need be. “Because if this is gonna happen, Nathan, I need you ready and on side. Are you?” He turns, points it at me, and storms over before I’ve finished the sentence.
“Try me, Vico,” he snarls.
Well, damn.
My own eyes flick to Quinn, hand held up at the rest of the room to stop them killing Nathan where he stands. Still the fucker stares Gianni down as if nothing is more important than Cane presence being felt in this room. It’s working, too. Astute partnering, and full of that aggression I need from them both if I believe they are on side by the end of this discussion. I look back at Nathan, nodding and walking straight at the gun he’s pointing at me. “Calm down. We’ve got talking to do.” I put my hand on the barrel, lowering it to the floor, and move to the table. “And put your balls back in your pants, Quinn,” I mutter, taking my coat off. He chuckles at me, eyes still focused on Gianni. “You’ve made your point.”
His brow quirks, head turning towards me a little, and then he glances around the room at the array of guns still pointed at them both. “Do something about that,” he says, flicking his chin at them. “It’s not friendly.”
I chuckle a little at that, instantly annoyed with myself for doing it. Not friendly. Fuck, as if anything is friendly here. I wave my hand at them all anyway, and nod at Gorgio. Coffee is what we all need—coffee, and some time to plan a route through this.
“Nine of my best team got slaughtered,” I say, leaning back in my chair and looking around the room at everyone but the Canes. “Nine. Which one of you fuckers wants to tell me why?”
Silence.
I stare, travelling one by one over the faces of the people who should have had my back in one way or another. Someone should have known, heard something or been part of something. Their eyes are cast to the floor, some of them fidgeting in their futility. Soft, that’s what they’ve become, just like me. It’s fucking embarrassing. I’ve become the very thing that caused Sergio’s death, arrogant in my power. Safety is nothing but a lie, one these fucks have twisted into a reason for getting fat and less provocative with their anarchy. They’re all to blame for Tony’s death.
Every. Single. One. Of. Them.
Me included.
I scowl at the last one I come to face, the same guy who just stood there and faced off a Cane like he has the goddamn right to have any fucking opinion on who I bring into this room.
“You know anything, Gianni?” He shakes his head at me and straightens his too fucking expensive jacket as I stare at him. “You should have. It was in your quarter.”
