Page 54 of Deception

I ached with the need to hold my little girl in my arms, to reassure myself that she was fine. That I’d done the right thing.

Gunner had left a man at the motel watching over Everleigh without me having to ask him to.

He was a good guy. I should have trusted him when my daughter disappeared. She was everything to me, and I had failed her. Would she even want to see me again?

Stopping in an alley, we all got out and huddled next to the cars.

“We go in through the windows here and here,” Gunner said, drawing my attention to the tablet he was holding out. They’d somehow gotten a floor plan of the house we were about to storm. “Back door is here. Dalton, you and Hale go through there. Carter, you stay in the van and tap the security cameras. If not, see if you can tap some phones. We should be close enough.”

He turned to me, and I tried not to let my nerves overwhelm me. I’d never been nervous before on a mission. But this was different. I was no longer part of the team. I was an outsider now.

“Blake, you’re with me. We’re going through the front.”

My heart soared. This was why I’d been trudging through the jungle for the past year. Why I went back to my father, even though I swore I never would. To right my wrongs. And this was my chance.

Santino sent me a puzzled look at the sound of the name I’d been using since living in the States.

Gunner rattled off formations and timings, and once everyone knew what they were doing, we moved out.

Splitting up, everyone got into position. My adrenaline surged, and I grinned. This was what I loved. Working for Locked Security had been my dream job.

We stormed the building a few seconds later, every move we made a choreographed performance. Despite my prolonged absence, we were still in sync.

There were more guys with guns in the house than we thought, but that only proved to be a minor inconvenience. And then we had him. He was surprised when we burst in, the bodyguards surrounding him scrambling for their guns.

Gunner looked like a predator about to strike, prowling toward Carl Rambisi, the guy who’d ordered the hit on Sam. “Hiding right under our nose this whole time. Who would have thought you’d have the balls to order the killing of one of my men?”

I’d already taken care of the hit man before I left Guyana. Officer Harris had held up his end of the deal and dug up the information I’d been unable to find.

Rambisi was the last missing piece. He was small time, usually sticking to his part of the city. At least he used to before he got involved in the weapons trade. I still wasn’t sure what made him leave his comfortable throne. He’d been a big fish in a small pond, only to make himself a goldfish in an ocean filled with sharks. But maybe the money had been too much of an incentive.

Greed did funny things to people. My family was the best example. By the time I turned ten, my dad had killed all my uncles and any heirs they might have had. And despite him insisting that my mom’s car accident had been just an accident, I was certain he’d been involved in her death.

Rambisi cleared his throat. His head was red, and a trickle of sweat was running down the side of his face. “I wasn’t the one who wanted him dead.”

I’d always suspected there was someone else pulling his strings, but despite all my digging, I’d never gotten a name.

Maybe now we’d finally get the answers we’d been looking for. Because Rambisi had no reason to take us on. We had stayed out of his way, and he had done the same. Until Sam.

“I’ll tell you everything if you let me walk.”

Gunner tutted, and I knew things were about to get interesting. “I thought you knew me, Carl. Knew my reputation. I don’t negotiate.”

Rambisi looked much too smug for someone having at least five guns pointed at their head. “You will for this.” His gaze found mine, and his face took on a haughty expression. “Especially if I tell you that you have a traitor in your midst, as a show of my goodwill.”

Gunner followed the direction of Rambisi’s smug grin. “You mean Blake?”

Rambisi’s face fell. “You don’t care that he sold you out to the Irish?”

Gunner shrugged, and I wondered what he was playing at. He acted like he didn’t care. Like it was all water under the bridge.

Rambisi’s face went impossibly redder, and his chest was heaving. “Let me walk, and I’ll give you the name of the person responsible for all this. Because he’s not done with you yet. And his target wasn’t Sam.”

Gunner advanced and I followed, not liking the way Rambisi still seemed to think he had the upper hand. “Give me a name, Carl,” Gunner commanded, his voice turning into an angry rumble.

He was close to losing his patience.

Rambisi must have realized there was no way out, because he dove under his desk and started shooting. We should have not only patted him down but also checked the furniture for hidden weapons.

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