The Guzzi Legacy: Vol 2

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The Guzzi Legacy: Vol 2 Page 18

by Bethany-Kris


  Well, then ...

  “And how’s the east side thing going?” his friend asked.

  Beni scowled. “Hard to say.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means exactly what I said. After that attack on me ... shit’s been really quiet. No obvious thefts from within the crew, no more fighting amongst the guys than usual, and the gang hasn’t been causing us problems like they were. Hard to find the person causing this trash when they’re not stirring the shit, you know?”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  Cory shrugged. “You didn’t see who it was, right?”

  “Little too focused on the bat swinging toward my head, that’s all.”

  At least the bruise was gone.

  “Right,” his friend muttered, “but what if the person thought you did? It could be that everything is quiet because they’re waiting shit out. They got too close, too fast. Thought it was over for them, and yeah, took a step back to let it chill out.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “See.” Cory pointed at his temple and smirked. “I am smart.”

  “Still crazy, too.”

  “Life’s more fun that way.”

  Whatever his friend wanted to believe, okay.

  “Besides,” Cory added, “it being quiet is a good thing right now. Theo’s got a major shipment of cocaine coming in from Mexico soon, and they always use Jerome’s warehouses to store it while they get it ready to sell, you know? Wouldn’t want someone fucking around, and getting into that. Be a lot of money lost.”

  Beni stilled in the booth, a thought popping into his head without warning. It wasn’t at all strange to him that Cory knew about the cocaine, and shipment coming in considering Theo was his uncle, and he worked closely with the Outfit’s top men to do his job. A lot like his brother.

  Sure, Beni hadn’t been told about the cocaine, but he had to wonder ...

  “What’s rolling around in that head of yours? I can practically see your wheels turning.”

  Beni made a noise under his breath. “How come they didn’t tell me about the shipment coming in, you know, considering I’m supposed to be finding who is causing the issues within the crew and with the gang?”

  “Loose lips sink ships. The less people that know about something like this, the better. It’s always been that way. We don’t advertise our business and dealings because we don’t want other people in our business. You know what I mean?”

  Yeah, sure ...

  But what if the cocaine was the goal?

  And everything else ...

  Was that just a distraction?

  • • •

  Beni was surprised to find a few guys hanging around the warehouse when he arrived later that day to speak with the Capo. Typically, by this time, the guys were done with their work, and back to whatever holes they crawled out of.

  Then again, nothing was normal about this crew lately. Honing in on the fact that they were all suspects in the problems happening, he suspected some thought if they worked harder, and showed up more, then the Capo would believe it wasn’t them. And for others, they were just so fucking bitter to be caught up in this mess at all that they were constantly in a mood.

  Made work fun.

  Not.

  He wouldn’t usually speak with the Capo where someone could see him approach the man privately, especially seeing as how the crew was supposed to think he was just another guy like them ... but he didn’t have much of a choice today. Here they were, and he had an idea that he wanted to put to work.

  About the cocaine, that was.

  Who knew when that shipment would arrive?

  He didn’t have time to wait.

  One of the guys sitting on the hood of a car that had to be at least twenty years old, and in serious need of body work, nodded to Beni before he headed inside the warehouse. Figuring it was better to be kind, given the current circumstances, he nodded back.

  After all, he hadn’t forgotten what the Capo’s little favorite—Neil—told him a while back. Nobody here could be trusted, and they were all out for what was best for them. They didn’t give a shit about Beni at the end of the day.

  Words to live by.

  Speaking of Neil ...

  Beni found him standing on the opposite side of Jerome’s beat up desk when he entered the back office of the warehouse. Not that he even bothered to pass Beni a glance, let alone a proper fucking greeting.

  He didn’t care.

  “Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Jerome muttered, leaning back in his chair. “What’s up?”

  Beni passed Neil a look before giving his attention the Capo. “Do you have a minute to chat?”

  The man waved a hand. “Floor is free, go on ahead.”

  No.

  He wasn’t going to do that with Neil right there. To be honest, he wasn’t sure exactly how much Neil knew about Beni’s reason for being put on this crew, or if he was aware of the true purpose. And he hadn’t forgotten what Cory told him earlier, either.

  Loose lips sink ships.

  His little plan—he was determined to figure out if the cocaine was the goal for the gang, which meant everything else was a distraction—would only work if everything else went according to plan, too. As few people as possible needed to know.

  Neil didn’t have to be one of those people.

  “Alone, if you wouldn’t mind,” Beni said.

  Neil gave him a look over his shoulder, blank and yet still loaded. “If you have something to say to the boss, you can do it with me here. Since when have we ever allowed guys on the crew to have an all-access pass to the boss, huh?”

  That told Beni a lot.

  In just a few words, Neil had basically let Beni know that, in fact, he was not aware of Beni’s true purpose on this crew, and the reason why he was here. And if the man’s gaze was to be trusted, and that annoyance he found staring back at him, Neil was just a little bit jealous that Beni seemed to have free reign with Jerome here.

  Huh.

  He tucked that away for later.

  “Boss?” Beni asked, not bothering with Neil. “Do you have a minute for me alone?”

  He didn’t need to make a scene to get his point across with the asshole, and frankly ... the Capo would always have the final say when it came to his guys.

  “Step out,” Jerome said to Neil with a flick of his wrist. “And we’ll continue our discussion on your idea later.”

  “And what idea was that?” he dared to ask after Neil had left, slamming the door behind him. “Because he doesn’t seem too happy to leave it hanging. Or hell, maybe it was just me.”

  Jerome chuckled. “Easy, Beni. I like Neil ... been looking after him and his brother since they were kids, you know? Friends with their deadbeat father, and all. Their ma is a good woman, but needs help every once in a while to get by.”

  Interesting.

  And yet, he didn’t care.

  “What did you need?” Jerome asked.

  “The incoming shipment of cocaine, actually.”

  That got the man’s attention.

  And fast, too.

  “What about it?” Jerome cocked a thick brow, an underlying threat coating his words when he added quickly, “And just how the fuck do you know about it, anyway?”

  Exactly.

  “Have you considered that everything else might have just been a distraction, and the real problem is someone might be coming for that cocaine?”

  “What?”

  “Think about it,” Beni said, “a load of cocaine in the hands of a small, but organized, gang would do them ... wonders. The money they could make? Insane. Now, imagine they have someone willing to help them out with getting what they need. Or maybe they made someone work with them, who is to say? Point is, when your attention is on everything else they’re doing, it’s very unlikely that it’s going to be on that cocaine. You know, where they don’t want your attention to be because they’re going to steal it right
out from under you when you’re not looking.”

  Jerome was quiet.

  Beni waited him out.

  “That’s ... an interesting thought,” the man finally admitted. “But also not something we know to be true.”

  “Except, it could be.”

  “What do you suggest I do?”

  “Move the shipment’s arrival location, and even the day, if possible. Tell no one but those who will have a direct hand in actually handling the cocaine. I don’t care if it’s another made man you drink with on the weekends, don’t tell anyone. Unless they have to handle the shipment in some way, then they don’t need to know all the details.”

  “What then?”

  Beni shrugged. “Let me look into some things ... if this is what I think it is, then it’s not going to be hard to find the connection between whoever it is in the crew, and the gang. You just worry about protecting that shipment while I work.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good.”

  “And keep me informed, Beni.”

  Yeah, he would.

  As long as he had something worth saying.

  Loose lips, and all.

  “Oh, and say hello to your father for me,” the Capo added. “The boss mentioned you were going home for a couple of days to see your family.”

  Beni nodded. “Will do.”

  • • •

  “Bene.”

  “Beni.”

  A throat cleared behind Beni, drawing his attention to where his father was currently standing next to his mother by the front doors of the mansion. His twin, on the other hand, sat on the bottom stair of one of two winding staircases leading into the upper levels of the house at the grand entrance.

  “Let’s go find Marcus,” his mother said, “and leave these two ... to talk, I suppose.”

  “Play nice,” his father warned.

  Beni rolled his eyes.

  Bene was still staring at the marble floor, and he didn’t even bother to lift his gaze until Beni crossed the foyer, and sat down next to his brother on the stairs. They were quiet for a while, and he took that chance to soak in the familiar space of his parents’ large mansion.

  His childhood home.

  Shit.

  “Remember when we used to see if we could get lost in here?” he asked.

  Bene chuckled under his breath. “The house seemed a lot bigger then.”

  “Nah, we were just smaller.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Leaning back, Beni used his elbows to keep him steady one step higher. He eyed his brother from the side, wondering if Bene had gotten his shit figured out yet, or if he was ready to talk. Sometimes, it was better just to wait it out and see, but that fucking sucked, too.

  He loved his brother.

  Always would.

  “What’d Ma make for dinner?”

  “That chicken you like,” Bene replied, “and whatever else Dad wanted, probably.”

  “Nobody makes chicken like Ma.”

  “I swear it’s not her, Beni.”

  He let out a breath, the tension in his chest releasing all at once. It seemed like his brother might be ready to talk, but he still wasn’t sure if he was. Or rather, if he could do it without being horrible to Bene at the same time.

  “Isn’t it?” he asked. “All this shit started when she came around, so ...”

  “It’s not her.”

  “You heard what I said, right? That she’s important to me, and—”

  “You need me to get in line,” Bene said, laughing under his breath. “Yeah, I heard you loud and clear, man.”

  “If it’s not her, then what is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Well, he didn’t believe that.

  “I think you do, but you don’t want to say it, Bene.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “So, just say it.”

  Bene sighed, leaning back on the stairs and matching his brother’s posture. The two of them stared upward, surveying the large golden and crystal chandelier that hung over the staircase. It matched the one on the other side, too.

  Money.

  The whole house dripped in it.

  Nobody knew how to spend cash like their father.

  “I thought you’d follow me,” Bene said quietly, never looking away from the chandelier even when Beni glanced his way. “When I made that deal with Dad to come home, I mean ... I thought for sure you’d come back with me. Maybe not right away, but eventually. That’s what we always did, right? We followed each other—did the same shit. Why would that be any different?”

  “I like Chicago.”

  “I hate it.”

  Beni laughed. “Yeah, I know.”

  Bene shrugged, glancing his twin’s way with a faint smile. “And then everything else happened, too. You were pissed at me because I didn’t tell you that I was leaving. It all piled up, and every time I tried to explain ... she was there, so it messed me up. I’m not used to someone else being between me and you, you know? I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was in a mood about her—it’s not her.”

  “No, it’s you.”

  “I guess so.” Bene cleared his throat, and quickly sat back up on the stairs. “It feels like I’m losing something here, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t know how to stop it.”

  “Nobody is losing—”

  “Doesn’t make the feeling any less real, Beni.”

  Right.

  “And,” his twin added, “I just ... have to figure it out, that’s all.”

  “If you could not be an asshole about August, that would be great.”

  “You’re really on for her, huh?”

  “I fucking love the girl.”

  His brother quieted.

  Beni knew that feeling well.

  “How’s Chicago?” Bene asked, changing direction altogether.

  Beni didn’t mind. “Problematic.”

  “How so?”

  “I think the gang causing issues has connections to someone in the crew. I just don’t know who, how, or why.”

  “Yeah, that’s a problem.”

  Beni grinned over at his brother. “But hey, you know a lot of people ... and shit, you know how people like to talk, too.”

  “What about it?”

  “Care to do me a favor, and ask some questions?”

  Bene grunted under his breath. “Does that mean I have to go back to Chicago?”

  “Only if you need to.”

  “I’ll probably need to. Especially if you want me to be asking around about the gang, and their business. Have to be careful with that, you know.”

  Beni smirked. “Chicago is really not that bad.”

  “It’s not home.”

  True.

  Or maybe his brother just hadn’t found a new home yet. He opted not to point that out.

  16.

  August went over the letter one last time, figuring that since the offices were mostly quiet, and a good portion of the employees at Bared Brands had already left for the day, that she was safe to do so. Without someone possibly looking over her shoulder, or sneaking up on her, anyway.

  At the bottom of the letter, she had signed and dated it as was company policy. Although, if she were being honest, she didn’t even need to do this. Not write this, or hand it to her boss directly. She was technically in between jobs at Bared Brands. No longer an assistant to the editor of the magazine, except she had yet to fill the other position she had been offered.

  She didn’t need to give them a weeks’ worth of notice to quit her job. Well, really, she wasn’t even giving them that. She was giving them a letter that told of her resignation, and that she wouldn’t return on Tuesday after the long weekend.

  The new assistant would start that day to fill her position. August was supposed to start her new position on the team the same day. This letter was simply her being kind, and professional. Maybe someday, she might need the editor here to write her a letter of recommend
ation at some point or another, and so this would also help with that.

  Was it enough notice?

  Probably not.

  August also didn’t care at this point—she had given several years of her life to Bared Brands and received very little back in return. And what she had finally been given came too little, too late. Starting over somewhere else—if the Manic Media position was still up for grabs, and she suspected it was—terrified her, but so did staying here.

  Being stuck.

  Doing ... nothing.

  Or, that’s what it felt like.

  Just as August stood from her desk, tucking that letter into three folds, and then picking up her bag on the floor to sling it over her shoulder, the phone on the desk rang. A little light flashed on the base, telling her it was someone from downstairs. Which was better than the asshole CEO from upstairs, she supposed.

  She wasn’t going to have to deal with him anymore, either.

  Winning.

  She could have ignored the phone, but habit made her reach for it. “Mrs. Coss’s assistant here, how can I help you?”

  “Hey, August.”

  She relaxed at the sound of the girl from the front desk downstairs.

  “Hey, Marney. What’s up?”

  “You have a visitor down here in the lobby. Or ... well, he just went outside for a minute. But anyway, he’s down here whenever you’re ready to leave.”

  “Who is it?”

  She wasn’t expecting anyone.

  People didn’t randomly show up at her job.

  “He said it would be a nice surprise, and when I say he is very persuasive ... anyway, you’ll see when you get down here. Later!”

  Marney’s cheery voice and vagueness was still running through August’s mind long after she had left her desk. Down the hall of glass walls that made up several offices, she came to the largest one at the end. Through the door, which was also clear glass, she could see Michelle Coss, the editor of Bared Brands, sitting behind her desk on the phone. In her usual black pant suit, hair pulled back into a severe bun, and that signature red lipstick that never looked like she had to reapply it, the woman could be ... well, intimidating.

  Just a bit.

  Sometimes, she used that to her advantage to get shit done, and other times, it was nothing more than a mask to make new people stand a little straighter in her presence. For August, it had always given her a vision of what she wanted to be in this business. Tough as nails, no excuses, and driven to succeed. She was more than grateful for the experience she had been given working as Michelle’s assistant here.

 

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