Page 135 of Unorthodox
“Yeah,” he says, nodding, shifting from foot to foot, even though I didn’t say anything.
I take another drink.
He rubs his hand over his jaw, clearly stressed. “He’s…he’s an informant for the DEA. He’s waiting for you, Max.” His eyes meet mine. “Waiting to secure proof of funds, meet with you to get his sister, and get you in cuffs.” He drops his hand and bites the inside of his cheek. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was tweaking. He’s twitchy, restless. But Luca doesn’t do drugs. He just sells them. “Danik London wants everyone to burn.”
I take another drink, keeping my eyes on Luca’s. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, which is a reasonable distance, but I’m not sure what any of this has to do with me now. I have no plans to meet with Danik, and he hasn’t reached out to me.
“You need to leave.”
I drink again.
“She’s going to give him everything.” He slams his fist against the wall, turning away from me. “You need to go,now.She’s going to give him everything. Anything she’s seen in your house,” he turns to me, dropping his hand. “It’s not just the drugs, Max. It’s the fucking trafficking. Themurder.You’ve let her go free, haven’t you?” He steps closer, points a finger toward me but doesn’t touch me. “You haven’t kept her locked up, and she’s going to—”
“How do you know that?” I interrupt him coldly, glancing at his finger an inch from my chest.
He drops his hand.
“How do you know that I haven’t kept her locked up, Luca?”
His brown skin goes suddenly pale.
I grip the bottle in my hand tighter, waiting.
He rakes a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Have you?” he counters. “Have you kept her—”
I drop the bottle, where it shatters on the floor between us. I’ve got the Glock to his head before he can think to reach for his own gun. “I really, really don’t want to ask you again, Luca.” I back him against the wall, right beside the door to his entertainment room. If any of his guards saw me now, they’d shoot me in the back of the head.
But they’re not here right now, and I’m considering shooting Luca and making his guards fucking mine.
Being a man, he doesn’t lift his hands. Doesn’t cower or start stammering. Instead, he says with a wry smile, “You have to be careful who you trust. Even inside your own home. I would’ve thought you’d learned that by now.”
I say nothing, waiting, but as focused as I am on him, I can’t help wondering if he’s telling the truth about Danik. Who goes surfing when they know their sister may be taken at any minute? Who stays at an address that everyone in the business knows, because everyone keeps tabs on the kids of crime lords?
What if this was all a set up?
And what if Addison knew it,all along?
If that’s the case…Danik London will get to bury his sister in fucking pieces.
I try to tamp down on my rage, knowing that if I pull this trigger and put a bullet between Luca’s eyes, his guards will come for me, and I’ll have to kill all of them and manage not to get shot while I leave here to find Addison. She’s worth way too much to risk it.
If Danik is working with the DEA, and if Luca knows that I haven’t kept her chained, then he’s either fucked me over, or he chose his words very, very poorly.
“What did you do?” I ask him through gritted teeth. I shove the gun harder against him. “What did you fucking do?”
His smile falters. I see his internal battle as his eyes flick from mine to the floor, back again. Finally, he says, “They threatened my mother.” He swallows, a sheen of sweat on his brow because he knows exactly what I’m going to do. “They wanted me to get her because they don’t trust you, and they threatened myfucking mother,Max!”
I lower the gun from his head, fire two shots into his thigh instead.
He screams, clutching his leg, red blooming along his dark pants, dampening the fabric as he slides to the floor.
I hear what can only be described as a pause from the entertainment room, and I know I have seconds before a guard is on me.
“If you come for me, Luca, I’ll make your fucking mother scream my goddamn name before I fuck her to death. And this?” I gesture toward his leg with my gun. “This isn’t over.”
With that promise, I turn my back to him and jog down the hallway, toward the front door. I hear people screaming and the doors to the entertainment room bursting over.
I keep going.
