by K. A. Ware
Carlo nodded again and leaned back in his chair, "Do that, if we can get more information it might help us find the source. I don't need to tell you two how bad this could be for us if we don't get a handle on it. There are always suppliers from California circling the waters just waiting for a way into our territory. We need to get ahead of the cops on this one, send a message. These are clearly intentional poisonings, but for the most part, they seem random. The only commonality among the victims is the fact that they were heroin users."
He shook his head and let out a laugh that showed no trace of humor. "We've been lucky, if you can call it that, the number of deaths is what has caught police attention, but these are still junkies. The minute the death of a young white girl from the suburbs is linked to this mess, it's going to be national news, and then we're fucked. It's just a matter of time."
"So, what do we do?" Angelo asked, looking up from his phone. I suspected he was texting Mallory from the slight smile that had pulled up one side of his mouth. He'd quickly smoothed it out before addressing us, but I'd caught it.
"We need someone to go down to Portland and find out what the fuck is going on," Carlo said, looking directly at me. I handled the majority of our drug distribution personally, at least the larger ‘accounts', and he'd always relied on me to clean up any loose ends.
"I'll leave tomorrow morning," I said nodding. "We only have three lines going into that territory, if the tainted product is coming from our supply it should be easy to narrow down."
"Good. I want this done quickly and quietly," Carlo said rising from his seat and efficiently dismissing us.
Chapter Two
VIC
"I want to know who is fucking with my supply and I want their fucking head at my motherfucking feet!" I roared, picking up the lamp that sat on the end table and hurling it across the room.
Glass exploded as it hit the wall leaving a significant dent in its wake, the bent shade tumbled to the floor and skidded across the carnage of broken glass. I didn't give a single fuck. I was pissed and if I had to break everything in the damn room to get my point across, I would.
Luis was sprawled on the couch, his body relaxed as ever, but his eyes were focused on me as I paced in front of the coffee table.
The body count was rising, and it was my product that was being tampered with. I knew it wasn't my main supply. Otherwise, there would be a hell of a lot more dead junkies littering the streets of Portland. The victims had gotten their last fix from several different street dealers, so it wasn't one of those fuckers. The heroin had to have been laced before it got distributed down to the street, but in some cases, the product exchanged hands four even five times before it got there. There wasn't an easy way to nail down the culprit, or culprits, I didn't even know how many people were involved in the clusterfuck.
"Switch out the girls again," I spit out, shoving my fingers through my hair in frustration.
"We already did that," Juan said, his voice dripping with condescension as he stepped out of the shadowed corner that had once been lit by the lamp I'd destroyed.
My head snapped in his direction, and my eyes narrowed at him. Sensing my anger shift, Tank lumbered off the couch and came to stand next to me. His body taught with anticipation as he stared down the man that dared to insight my fury. He let out a low growl causing Juan's eyes to widen, I could tell he wanted to back away but knowing Tank, it would be the wrong move.
"Stay," I ordered, and stalked toward the man that looked as if he was about to piss his pants. "If I say I want you to switch out the girls every hour from now until the end of fucking time, you will do it. This isn't a fucking democracy, I say jump, you ask how high, period. If you ever speak to me like that again, I'll let Tank use your balls like a fucking chew toy, got it?"
He gave me a curt nod but kept his mouth shut.
Maybe he's not such an idiot after all.
"Good, now get the fuck out and do what I told you to."
I cracked my neck as I walked back to the center of the room where Tank stood still, watching me. Reaching down, I gave his big head a pat. "Good boy," I praised, and his body instantly relaxed at my tone. Tail wagging furiously, his tongue slid out of the side of his mouth in his version of a goofy smile.
Watching out of the corner of my eye I noticed Juan slip out through the kitchen, headed towards the back door to avoid my dog.
Pussy.
Tank wouldn't attack unless I ordered him to. Pit Bulls were loyal animals, and if you trained them like I had mine, they would follow their master's command without hesitation. The same applied to non-action orders unless I was physically being attacked, he'd stay by my side until, given the order, he didn't know any different.
"I didn't want to say anything in front of Juan, but we have another problem," Luis said, still unmoving from his place on the couch.
I groaned, tilting my head to stare at the ceiling. I needed another problem like I needed another hole in my head. "What now?"
"Got a call from our contact with the DeLuca's. He's coming down, wants to meet with us, finds out what we know."
"MOTHERFUCKER!" I screamed and started pacing again. At this rate, I was going to wear a rivet into the wood floors.
"How soon?" I asked, realizing what this could mean for our business. I couldn't afford to lose our supplier. The time it would take to find another would cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars.
"Tomorrow."
"Son of a bitch!" My hair was a mess from pulling at it for the last hour, and I was exhausted. I had no leads on who could be responsible for the tainted product and the anxiety of having to face a very unhappy supplier had me hanging by my last nerve.
"I'll put him off until later in the day, but he's not going to wait long."
"What's he like?" I asked, halting my manic pacing. I'd never actually met our supplier, preferring to stay in the shadows and let Luis handle that connection. We'd established the relationship when my brother was still alive, and I didn't want to raise additional concern when I took over by changing their contact.
Luis gave me a curious look and shrugged. "His name's Antonio, doesn't say much, but he has that mal de ojo, that evil eye look to him."
I scoffed, "Takes one to know one." Luis was crazy, that's why he was my number one. In the business I was in, it paid to have a lunatic in your corner. I'd seen Luis go full on psycho once in my life and it was enough, even years later, to send chills down my spine.
Luis just smirked.
"Where does he want to meet?"
A shadow passed over Luis' face. "Here."
I was momentarily stunned, "Here? No fucking way." I didn't make a habit of conducting business at my house. I didn't need people knowing where I lived, where I was vulnerable.
"He said he wanted to meet somewhere private, I offered one of our trap houses, but he said it wasn't secure enough. He doesn't want people to know he's in town."
Letting out a frustrated growl, I stalked toward the kitchen. I needed a fucking beer. Opening the fridge, I snatched one from the bottom rack, barely registering the clanging of glass bottles as I slammed the door. I leaned against the counter and popped the top, taking a long pull. The muscles in my neck starting to relax as the crisp tang of the beer hit my tongue.
I was in the middle of a total and complete clusterfuck with no foreseeable resolution. If I didn't figure out what was going on, I risked more than just my business. With the DeLuca's taking notice, my life could very well be on the line as well.
Chapter Three
Antonio
Two dead ends. I'd met with the Armenians in Vancouver and the biker club in Salem; both had pointed me in the direction of the only other big player in the area. The Mexicans.
Luis had been my main contact for years. He wasn't a talker, but he was always on time, and we'd never had any problems. The only other person I'd met from their organization was Santiago, the previous boss that had been killed about a year after we'd started supplyin
g to them. At the time, I'd thought there might be an issue, maybe a power struggle for the territory, but from my end, it appeared seamless. They didn't falter in their orders. In fact, they'd steadily increased the product they took in.
Santiago's brother Vic had taken over the crew but never made a move to meet us, instead of continuing to let Luis handle it. It was a smart move on his part. When you're moving large portions of illicit drugs, consistency is key. You don't want to spook your supplier by adding more hands to the pot.
I'd only met Santiago a few times, so I didn't have a handle on what he was like, therefore I had no point of reference. I didn't know what to expect out of his brother, but I hoped he'd be cooperative. The last thing I needed was some asshole trying to start a pissing match with me.
I was surprised when I pulled up to the address Luis had text me. It was an older house in what could only be described as the ghetto. I already missed the clean streets of Seattle. From what I'd seen, as soon as you got out of the new developments, Portland was a fucking dump.
As I stepped out of my car and started up the walkway, I saw Luis walk out onto the front porch. He gave me a chin lift in greeting and held the door open for me. I followed silently, my eyes scanning the clean, but old, interior of the house. My jaw ticked when I scanned the living room where he'd led me and found no one. I'd thought I'd made myself clear when I told him I wanted to meet with his boss. I didn't like to be disobeyed.
"Where's Vic?" My impatience evident in my tone. I wasn't going to pretend this was a social visit; I'd come to talk business, and didn't have time to fucking waste. I'd already gone out of my way and backtracked more than I'd liked because Luis had informed me that Vic wouldn't be able to meet with me until the afternoon.
It wasn't like me to be accommodating, but I'd been feeling generous. Something that was seemingly being abused.
Luis narrowed his eyes at me slightly before he schooled his features once again. I slid my hand into my jacket and felt the cold grip of my gun as he walked over to the stairs. I couldn't see a logical reason why they'd try to start something with us, but I was walking in blind and without backup, I wasn't going to take any chances if things went south.
"Vic!" he called loudly up the stairs before turning back to me. The eyebrow with the LA tattoo above it kicked up when he caught sight of my guarded stance, but he didn't say anything or move for a weapon of his own. Instead, he flopped himself on the couch as if he were about to watch a game on TV.
The sound of claws on bare wood clicked from above me, causing my head to snap back to the stairs just in time to see two massive Pit Bulls barreling down the steps. I didn't have a chance to react because they flew past me, launching themselves onto the couch with Luis. I didn't have a problem with dogs generally speaking, but the beasts jumping around on the cushions looked big enough to tear a man to shreds, definitely worthy of caution.
A set of footsteps slowly descended the stairs, from where I was standing I saw black chucks appear first, followed by baggy pants. Whoever this guy was he was a tiny fuck, I hoped to God he didn't have a fucking Napoleon complex, the situation was complicated enough without some jackass trying to prove how tough he was. The baggy pants were followed by… bare skin?
What the fuck?
I was shocked to see a gorgeous woman appear at the bottom of the stairs; she was wearing a cropped mesh jersey with the LA Dodgers logo on the chest revealing a black bra beneath. My dick instantly stood at attention. I let my eyes drink her in, from her hips to her tapered waist, up to her full breasts. A myriad of black and gray tattoos covered both arm and what I could see of her chest. I finally settled on her face, which held a scowl, she'd apparently caught me checking her out. Too fucking bad.
As much as I was enjoying the view, I was here for a reason. I didn't like that this Vic guy was making me wait, and why the fuck was his girlfriend here? Again, I thought I'd made myself clear that I wanted to speak with them privately?
"Are you just going to stand there and stare or are you going to tell us why you're here?" the woman asked crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her chin defiantly. Her voice was husky, instantly made me wonder what it would sound like calling out my name.
Momentarily distracted with my wayward thoughts, it took a second to process what she'd said.
"Excuse me?" I asked, instantly regretting how stupid I'd sounded.
She smirked, clearly enjoying my confusion. "You called Luis and asked to meet with me, did you not? Well, you're here, and so am I, so again, why?"
"You're Vic?" My tone was flat, but I was certain my eyes betrayed my shock.
She rolled her eyes and spread her arms wide. "Victoria Ortiz Mendoza, in the flesh."
I cleared my throat and held out my hand, "I didn't realize, I'm Antonio Moretti."
She quirked a delicate eyebrow but made no move to shake my hand. Instead, she moved past me and flopped onto a high wingbacked chair, much like Luis had done. She was graceful, but there was nothing ladylike about her posture. With a leg thrown over one of the sides and her arms splayed wide, her body language spoke of someone who was entirely unafraid, and it grated on my nerves.
I'd enjoy teaching her some manners, possibly in that chair.
Not wanting to be the only one standing I took a seat on the other side of the couch. Her eyes followed me, but her face remained impassive. I couldn't quite peg her, which aggravated me. I'd met some of the most notorious men of our lifetime and I'd always been able to read them within minutes, but this little ball of attitude? Nothing.
"I'm here because you have a problem. And if you have a problem, we have a problem."
Chapter Four
VIC
His voice echoed with authority in the small room, and it had my senses prickling. I didn't give a fuck who he worked for.
No shit we have a problem, you arrogant ass.
I forced myself to remain in a relaxed position. "I'm aware of the situation." Like hell was I going to give him a reason to think he had any power here. He was on my turf, in my house. If he wanted to play badass, he could take his happy ass and fancy suit back to Seattle.
"So it is your product that's being tampered with?" he asked leaning forward in his chair to rest his arms on his knees.
I hated that I found the way he moved sexy. It was neither the time nor the place to be getting all hot and bothered over the big bad mob man. But there was something about those eyes, the depth of them that pulled at me. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't so easily swayed by a pretty face and charming smile, or in Antonio's case, scowl.
"That seems to be the case."
Antonio's jaw clenched, I could see it from all the way across the room, he had a temper. It was everything I could do not to smirk. A zing of excitement shot through me at the realization that I was getting to him.
How fun would it be to break him?
I could do it, hell I thrived on it. Stripping away a man's tough exterior, making them beg for it. There was no greater high than watching a man like Antonio, one that other men feared, turn himself inside out in an effort to please me.
He abruptly stood, causing Tank and Chopper's head's to whip in his direction. Antonio spared a brief glance at the animals before locking his eyes on mine.
"Enough with the coy shit. This situation is just as important to us as it is to you. Neither of us needs the heat that comes with this many bodies, so I suggest you stop playing games and start taking this seriously, little girl."
Oh, hell no.
I got to my feet slowly, letting only my eyes show the anger that was building. With purposeful steps, I walked across the room to where he stood until I was less than a foot away from his towering frame.
"Let's get one thing perfectly clear. This is not a joke; this is not a game, this is my livelihood, this is the livelihood of my people. I do not take the situation lightly. That being said, I don't know you, and that means I don't trust you. So, I beg your pardon if I'm not forthcoming wit
h information when I'm being questioned in my own home by some stiff in a fucking suit." I emphasized my point by reaching out and flicking the lapel of his suit jacket.
See? I can use big words too, jackass.
I watched his lips twitch at my words as if he were trying to stifle a smile. He slowly raised his chin, looking down his nose at me before speaking.
"I'm glad we're on the same page because I don't trust you either. Regardless of that though, we need to find a way to work together. I need your information, and you need mine if we're going to find out what's going on and end it."
We? What the fuck did he mean we?
"I don't need your help, I'll handle it," I argued. I did not need this guy running around my streets trying to shake people down. It was hard enough getting people to give me information, let alone some stranger who looked like he just stepped out of a fucking magazine.
"We've given you two weeks to handle the problem and the body count is still rising. It's no longer your decision to make; I have orders to step in."
"And if I refuse your help?"
"You don't want to know what happens then," he said quietly. Despite his soft tone, his words were laced with venom. I felt a shiver run up my spine in equal parts fear and anticipation. Going toe to toe with Antonio Moretti could be the ride of my life, or it could get me killed. Either way, I was going to find out.
"So you're staying in Portland?"