54

I’d been forced to knock on hundreds of doors of possible enemies over the years, kicking more than a few in during my time as the Don of the family. Some had immediately begged for forgiveness, pleading for their lives, others brandishing firearms. I’d had grenades tossed at my head, steel bats flying atme. A knife or two. My favorite had been when the wife of one of a man who’d betrayed us had started throwing tomatoes. I’d been covered in red slop in the time it had taken for my men to wrestle the vegetables from her before driving her to the ground. And they’d been two of my beefiest men.

However, this greeting shocked the hell out of me.

“Thank God, you’re here. I was terrified you wouldn’t figure it out. I want to strike a deal.”

Shawn’s words reverberated but they didn’t register completely for at least a full thirty seconds. I shook my head again, as if I could somehow drive the cobwebs away. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He looked past us into the hallway before grabbing my arm, yanking me inside. “Did anyone follow you?”

“Excuse me?” Greg asked, as confused as I was.

After Shawn closed and locked the door, including the deadbolt, he started pacing the floor, acting as if he had fire ants crawling up his legs. To say his behavior was bizarre was an understatement but I’d seen it before, the anxiousness and obvious distress usually caused by drugs. Not the good kind.

Only I sensed he wasn’t on a damn thing by the look in his eyes. He’d been driven into a corner.

“Were you followed?” Shawn stopped, glancing directly into Greg’s eyes then mine. They were clear, only haunted. I’d seen that before as well in the faces of victims.

“No. I made certain of it. What’s going on, Shawn?”

“I want a deal first. Then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” He was antsy, shifting from foot to foot, constantly staring at the door. “This is about the New Orleans Bratva. Right?”

“Maybe. Now, I’m curious. What are you offEricag?”

He scratched his arm, using enough pressure he drew blood. “It’s crazy. Complicated.”

Jesus. The guy was ready to either jump out of his skin or a window.

“Do you have anything to drink in the condo?” I asked.

“Yeah. Full bar over there. Help yourself.” He pointed to the far side of the expansive living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows providing a fantastic view of the river and downtown area.

I headed to the bar, grabbing a bottle of scotch and filling a single glass. When I returned, I held it out to him. “Drink this. You need to take a breath. What do you want in exchange for this deal you’re proposing?”

He glanced at the drink as if I’d had the time to poison it, yet he downed it with a single gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. He appeared like a man who’d accidentally seen a crime he shouldn’t have or worse.

As if his world had been shattered.

“Immunity. A place inside your organization. Protection.”

“From the Baranov Bratva.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

Snorting, he glanced into his empty glass as if liquid would magically appear. “They’re the hired gun but fucking deadly. Like vipers.”

“As you suspected, we already know that Omar Baranov is seeking revenge for a decades-old situation with our family, Shawn. That means nothing at this point.” My brother had an arrogant tone in his voice. He didn’t like playing games any more than I did.

“God. You think I ratted out your family. Don’t you? For this?” He held up his butchered, bandaged hand, studying me before laughing. “This is nothing in comparison to what my father might do for telling you a goddamn thing.”

That could be a true statement depending on whether or not his father was a part of this. It was time to drag the elephant into the room. “Your father is behind this.”

“As I said, I want some kind of promise you won’t kill me.”

I took a deep breath, hating the ache that had developed behind my eyes. “I’m not in the mood for killing anyone today, Shawn.” But I was in the mood to break heads and would if he didn’t stop acting like a child.

He danced from foot to foot. “And I can come work for you?”

“Sure. Why not?” This game was getting old.

“Good. Good. I think you’ll like what I can bring to the table. I’m an expert hacker and have years of experience in building computer systems. I don’t mind being extra muscle anytime you need because I don’t have an aversion to blood or violence. I think you know that. Oh, and I’m totally off drugs and most alcohol. Granted, today being an exception for the liquid libation but I’ll curtail my indulgences till after the business is concluded.”

The man was really giving me his verbal resume? I could feel Greg’s amused scrutiny from beside me. I waved my hand. “That’s enough, Shawn. You’re right in that I’m well aware of your qualifications. What in the fuck is going on? What do you think you know?”

“As my daddy always told me, art speaks louder than words. Let me get a file for you.” He started to walk away then stopped, narrowing his eyes. “I can trust you. Right? You’ll keep your promise to me.”

I held up my hand. “Scout’s honor.”

“Okay. Good. Good. I believe you.” He almost jogged out of the room after placing his empty glass on the coffee table.

Whew. I was now the one who needed a drink. I headed to the bar, more than slightly confused from whatever the hell was going on.

“You were never a scout,” Greg told me.

“Yeah, I know that. He doesn’t.” I poured two glasses, figuring my brother was in the same boat as I was, scratching his head as he tried to process what we were dealing with.

“Okay. Whatever you say, bro.”

I laughed as I brought him a drink. “Here’s to the day getting weird.”

“I’m certain Selena will be able to make a dark joke about it.”

Swirling the liquid in the glass, I nodded in agreement. “Yep. She certainly will.”

It only took another minute before Shawn returned to the room. In his hand was a thick manila file as well as what appearedto be another jump drive. I almost groaned seeing it. At this point, jump drives had become the bane of my existence. At least Mikey believed that he could unlock the passcodes for the ones Selena had brought with her.

“I figured a busy man like yourself would want to see what I have in vivid color, but so you know I didn’t doctor shit on these photographs, I also have the full proof on this disc. You can have both since we have a deal.”

A deal made with the devil was still a deal, one I would honor if what he’d provided was decent and could lead me to the person hunting my woman like a dog.

Greg accepted the items, opening the file and flipping through the stack of photographs. He cursed under his breath in French, shaking his head several times. “Whew. How did you get these?” he asked Shawn without handing me the file. That mean whatever he was holding was more than just the ammunition needed.

It would rock my world.

“I stole it. How else?” Shawn muttered. “I didn’t do what you thought I did with the Voltairs. Someone made it look like I was the bad seed. So sure, I was angry as fuck and upset. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I became determined to figure out what the fuck was going on and who framed me. What I didn’t expect was to find what I did about you and your family. This is gonna kill my father.”

Greg handed me the file but shook his head. “I think you’re gonna sit down. Then we need to roll, brother.”

I was the kind of man who prided himself on taking bad news standing up. Yet the moment I opened the file, the very firstpicture was enough of an indication my brother was right after all.

It was perhaps the first time images of my past, the limited time I’d spent with my son and the woman I fully intended on marrying, flashed in front of my eyes.

I’d also learned never to underestimate a powerful woman.