Page 126 of Stabby Little

"Twenty-one-year-old Columbia student Kobe Bailey has been kidnapped. He was on his way to class when two armed men drugged him and shoved him in a van. He studied animal science and loved animals of every shape and size. His best friend Becca reports that his final words were lamenting his ID that went missing earlier this month. If you have any information regarding his disappearance, call us."

Sparrow's jaw drops. "That's the boy whose ID you stole."

"I've got to get rid of this." I bite my cheek. This is such bad timing.

Sparrow looks me dead in the eyes. "You need a new ID."

I grit my teeth. "I'll call Roy."

* * *

I wait in Central Park next to the Bathsheba Fountain. Where's Roy? Last time we spoke, he said he moved into an apartment building two blocks away. There's no reason he should take so long to arrive.

I pull out my phone.

Me:I'm by the fountain

Roy:I'll be there any second. I'm wrapping up a job for my boss

I slide my phone in my pocket and drag in a haggard breath. My nerves are shattered as fuck on account of the news report.

I had no idea my actions would put Kobe Bailey in harm's way. Am I the reason the two men captured him? Did they take him because they were searching for me?

At last, Roy arrives. He's wearing the dark maroon hoodie he donned last time we met with a pair of black jeans. His low-top Converse shoes are clean and sparkling white. A glistening wristwatch sits on his left wrist, one he wasn't wearing last time. A gold chain hangs around his neck, the diamonds pristine. He sports a fresh haircut that makes him look like a crypto influencer.

Roy's levelled up in this world. I don't know where he got the money for his new gear, but he looks like he's making big bucks now.

I stand next to him. "I need to speak to you."

Roy pulls a blunt out of his back pocket and lights it up. "Tell me what you need."

"A new ID."

Roy coughs and blows smoke in my direction. "Look, man. You need to back off. Whatever you're mixed up in, it's dangerous."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Roy grabs my T-shirt. "Bodies have been dropping left and right. Rumor has it that boys who escaped a Mafia sex trafficking organization are getting revenge on their captors. I don't want you mixed up in that."

I shake off Roy's hand and purse my lips. I want to ask where he received this information, but that's not smart. It's clear Roy's underworld connections go deeper than I thought.

When we first bumped into each other, I thought he was a small-time drug dealer who could help me acquire weapons. Judging by his fresh outfit and threats, something's changed.

"I don't know what you're talking about,” I reiterate.

"I hope you fucking don't." Roy steps back and spits on the ground. "There'd be problems if you did."

"What warehouse?"

"One in Yonkers. A prominent Italian Mafia crime family owns it."

"That's news to me. I didn't know the Mafia still existed."

Roy casts me a dark look. "They control everything in this city. Bankers, politicians, the NYPD. Even the mayor was purported to have been on the mob's payroll during the last election cycle."

"I thought hedge funds ran New York. That's what I see on CNBC."

"They're money laundering fronts to conceal mob bosses' criminal activities. The billionaire mobsters in this city don't want their names on the Forbes list."

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