Friday after Thanksgiving

Les‘s POV

I’m staring at my computer screen, trying to make sense of what I’m reading, when Bobby walks in.

“Turn it off.” I look at him. He looks amused. “You’ve been staring at the screen for ten minutes. You aren’t reading. You’re brooding.” He hops on the other end of my bed and stares at me. “Talk, bro.”

I stare out of the window to the bleak Trenton skyline. It’s nearly midnight and the stars can barely be seen. I’ve been thinking about this problem for the past two hours and I’m no closer to a resolution. Bobby walked in at the right moment.

“How goes the paperwork?”

“Ric’s an ass,” he mutters, flexing his fingers. I smirk; nice payback, primo. “I’m nearly finished. I’d like to hand him the stack before he leaves for Miami.”

“Good luck.”

I return to staring out of the window. I hate Jersey. I wanted to escape this place because it always felt gray and depressing and I’ve never met such a collection of stupid criminals and insane people. Being in San Antonio was great. Being in every other RangeMan location was great. Trenton? Trenton is the site of my biggest failures, as a tactician and as a RangeMan. I hate being here, which sucks because the (second) best men in the company are here.

NYC, baby! Numbers come out in five days. Ryan’s getting faster certifying the official numbers for everyone, and that’s good. Bobby and I have a bet going. I think NYC topped everyone this month. Bobby thinks Trenton just barely held on.

He doesn’t know about Fashion Week yet.

“Les?”

I sigh and put the laptop away. “I’m … hesitating.”

Bobby’s brow rises. “Hesitating?” He places a hand against my forehead and shrugs. “Normal.”

“Asshole.”

“Had to check. Hesitation? You don’t hesitate, Les.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

I sigh. “Because I’m not in a mood to be told to go fuck myself ever again.” Bobby’s eyes close and he has a pained look on his face. “I mean it. I help a friend and I get told to go fuck myself. Called manipulative, which I already knew, but told ‘You should have just talked to me‘?” Bobby snorts. “Exactly.”

“So what are you saying?” Bobby asks quietly.

I sigh and lie back on the pillow. “I’m saying I don’t know if I want to interfere in Mack’s problem.”

“I thought we all agreed not to interfere in anyone else’s life ever again,” Bobby says, hard. “We agreed that shit wasn’t worth it.”

I’m silent. To save his life, I have to interfere in his life big time. Otherwise, he’ll be dead, Mack and Jorge, and I’m hesitating. I doubt myself and I can’t. I can’t doubt myself if I intend to help them.

Ric pops his head in the door, notices our faces, and walks in. He raises an eyebrow.

“Existential crisis,” Bobby says.

I flip him a finger. “Not.”

“Then what?” Ric asks.

“We agreed not to interfere in anyone else’s life—”

“And that was a good rule. Let’s keep that intact.” I open my mouth and Bobby shakes his head. “Nope—”

“Here we go again,” Ric mutters. We stare at him. “What are you two expecting? A thank you?”

“No.”

“No.”

Ric snorts. “Good. I’ve been saving Steph’s ass for four years. I’ve never gotten a thank you.”

We stare at each other, then at him, jaws gaping.

“Is her pussy gold lined?” I ask in amazement. Ric raises a brow. “Is it that good that you’d allow a woman to treat you like shit?” I blow a breath. “Goddamn, Ric! I assumed she at least thanked you for saving her ass every time you did.”

Ric scowls but Bobby shakes his head. “Sorry, bro, but I gotta call for my RB here. Not once? Not a single fucking thank you?”

“That would require Steph to acknowledge she got in over her head,” Ric says patiently, “which would require her to acknowledge she wasn’t ready and allowed someone to get the drop on her. Which would mean acknowledging that she was wrong or that she did it the wrong way.”

Bobby and I stare at each other. “Nah, primo, I’m not buying that shit. Fine. If she doesn’t want to acknowledge she was wrong, I get that—”

“But . . .” Ric smiles. “And here’s where you prove you don‘t get it. I just explained, clearly, why she never thanked me. I understood why. Steph’s thank you? Agreeing to any favor I asked of her. Accepting my care and concern for her. Not fighting me”–he stops and thinks–”very hard on the security measures. Steph’s version of a thank you is an ‘in-kind’ sort of thing.” He sits. “If a verbal expression of thanks is what you two are waiting on, you’ll be completely gray before it happens. Look at what she does to pay you back.”

“You mean her actions?” Bobby raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been talking a lot more lately. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.” Ric raises an eyebrow. “I would bet that she told you she needed words, not actions, right?” Ric is silent. “Yeah, so Steph gives you actions but not words and you’re supposed to accept that. You’re asking us to accept that. You give her actions but not words and that’s unacceptable.”

Bobby raises his brow again. Ric slams his blank face into place.

“Whoops!” Bobby pokes me. “Looks like I called that double standard right.”

“You’re annoying when you’re right,” I reply, smiling.

“I’m annoying because I’m right so often.”

And he knows it. It’s Bobby’s most annoying character trait. He’s almost always right. His response? ‘What? Am I supposed to be embarrassed that human nature is what it is? I call it how I see it. Kiss my ass if you don’t appreciate it, but you know I’ll never lie to you.’

Which is true. If you want someone to tell you the honest, painful truth, go find Bobby.

Bobby treats everyone the same. Don’t give him excuses. He doesn’t care. I realized I needed to listen to my RB more when I remembered that he had the lowest sexism scores of all of us.

Ric is silent. “We discussed that,” he mutters. Bobby snorts to hide his laughter. “Anyway, she told you she got it, that she understood. She apologized and acknowledged that you’d been there for her. Right?”

I raise a brow. “We heard that before. Then she went to the mall.”

Ric’s eye twitches slightly. “Blank slate?”

“We did. We’re not holding it against her but that doesn’t mean that never happened. We blank slated the mall thing,” Bobby says. “Doesn’t mean we’re just going to believe her. She hasn’t earned that. She’s just earned our belief that she’ll try from now on. That’s what we mean by blank slate.”

“Stop!” I blow out a breath. “I’m sick of talking about Steph! We tried to help Steph and she threw it back in our faces as if all we’d done was hurt, abuse, and use her! We became The Cop for giving a damn about a friend and all our conversations lately have been about her. Fuck her! Not everything is about her and I don’t want to hear her name mentioned again. Right now, I’m hesitating to save two men’s lives because … because …”

“Because your belief in your abilities has been shot by her,” Bobby says coldly. “And you’re right. Let’s not talk about her.” He looks at Ric. “Stay if you can be helpful. If your first impulse is going to be to defend her shitty behavior, leave.”

Ric and Bobby stare at each other before Ric takes a seat.

“First thing to recognize, RB. Your plan worked.” I glare at Bobby, who is sitting back calmly. “Tank was right. We reached every goal we had, so you should be proud. Your record remains intact. Second, Jorge and Mack aren’t her. They want and need your help. They’re willing to listen and follow your orders. You know what you’re hearing in Washington Heights. I’m hearing the same things out of Harlem and Brooklyn. Both of them need help and they need it fast.”

I’m quiet. I know all this, intellectually, but “Then how can we say we have brotherhood in this company, that everyone has each other’s backs, if I hesitate to help my brothers?”

Bobby blows a breath and looks at Ric. “The crisis.” I flip them both a finger. Bobby walks over to Ric, blocking my view, and whispers something to him. When he backs away, Ric looks stunned and hurt, although he hides it quickly.

Bobby sits, looking at Ric coolly. I wonder what just went down.

Ric looks sober. “Every man in this company knows that the men around him, his partners, are not going to hurt him,” he says quietly. “They aren’t going to make moves to injure him. Every man has his brother’s back, regardless of how they personally feel about them.” Ric shrugs. “Mark and Hector?”

We all nod. Learning how Mark defended Hec yesterday stunned us all. It was the Mark we all remembered from the military, the Mark we used to see with Mando all the time. A reminder that regardless of how you feel about your brother, you back him to the hilt.

“Our CO doesn’t believe that. She doesn’t believe that everyone has her back, just a special select few, because she’s grown up believing that everyone wants to hurt her and no one supports her. That’s fundamental and we can’t fix that.” Bobby snorts. Ric stares at him. “It’s why she only has one friend from childhood and that one friend now believes that she’s been kicked to the curb with us.”

“ML?” Ric asks in astonishment. Bobby pulls up his copy of ML’s letter to us on his tablet and Ric kicks back and reads.

Bobby and I are quiet. We sent ML a gorgeous bouquet of roses and an apology letter once she returned to Trenton. If backing us means she loses her childhood friend, we’re sorry to have been the catalyst for that. We let her know that we’ll always be there for her and we appreciated her help.

We received a lovely letter back from her, in which she reiterated that she backed us because she believes we did the right thing and if Steph kicks her to the curb again for being truthful, then she has no choice but to accept it.

ML can make us feel like shit simply because she’s a genuinely nice person and a good friend. She’s also accepted the consequences of her actions, so we respect her. ML made our short list of people to truly like and respect.

Bobby sighs. “Again, she’s taught us a lesson: Don’t interfere with people’s lives. They’re never grateful or appreciative. We’re manipulative assholes, so these three assholes are never going to interfere again. We’ll never be accused of ‘manipulation’ ever again.”

Ric sits on my couch and props his feet on my coffee table, his blank face in place. Bobby leans back in his chair. “So we’ll take Ric’s advice here. When she shows us she believes in the brotherhood, that she believes that everyone behind her believes in her, we’ll give her the brotherhood we give every man. Lula told us that time and time again. Don’t help the Stark Street girls because you’ll cause them more problems than you’ll fix. You have to wait for people to ask for your help. So that’s the standard we’ll use with her. She’s on her own until she asks us for help.”

“Exactly. Jorge asked for my help. Mack needs my help, I’ve promised him help, but he doesn’t like the solution.”

I’m headed to the kitchen. I’m starved. Bobby and Ric follow me.

“Then help Jorge,” Bobby says. “Mack? If Mack doesn’t like the plan, leave it alone. You told him what he needs to do?”

I nod. “I want to help, I know what needs to happen, but should I really do it?” I shrug. “Everything I’m reading online says that his children will suffer if he moves them from NYC. Children, especially younger children, need access to the incarcerated parent. It helps calm their fears about what’s happening to their parent and keeps that bond between the parent and child.

Clearly that’s the case with the youngest, Hamid. He’s the one most devastated by his mother’s incarceration.” I sigh. “I don’t have a lot of good things to say about Mack’s ex, but the fact that she made and kept the commitment to take him his kids every week says something about her. She didn’t allow her kids to forget their father.”

“Agreed,” Bobby says quietly. Ric nods.

“Plus, the Judge is more than likely not going to be willing to give Mack permission to move the kids to Florida if Yala is objecting. It’ll be easier once she’s tried and convicted, but it’s federal court. That could be two or three years. So in order to make this work for Mack, I’ll have to call in favors, threaten a few people, and Mack will have to convince Yala to agree. And in the end, it may do his kids more harm than good.” I look at them. “It’s a Steph situation all over again and I don’t know if I’m willing to go through that again.”

Ric nods and leans against the wall. “You’re not going to forgive her, are you?”

“Eventually, but no time soon.” I’m rummaging through the fridge but I stand and turn to Ric. “You know why? Because it was the first time I’d used my planning and persuasive abilities for pure good. Not to get laid or protect my country or outwit my enemies. It was the first time I’d put a plan in place to help someone and I’m made out to be the world’s worst person for it. Hell, I knew enough about her to run that plan, but Ahmed? Hamid?

I don’t know enough about those boys to alter their world. Is it really the best idea to move them to Miami, so far away from their mother? Midi is having major problems with his mother in lockup. Med is handling it slightly better but still, I don’t want to put plans into play that might end up hurting those kids more than I help them. I mean, no matter what, she could be the worst woman in the world but she’s still their mom. They still love her and they need her.” My shoulders slump. “Manipulative? Yeah, I’m manipulative. I’m also charming, persuasive, slick, cunning, crafty, sly—”

“Steph was called that by the men most of the year,” Bobby says, laughing.

“Exactly! I’m a manipulative asshole, but Steph?” I stand up, rubbing my cheek. “She can dish it, but she can’t take it. And for the first time ever, I’m questioning whether or not I should ever try again. I love what I do. I love being a tactician, but Steph just killed it for me. For the second time in my life, I’m questioning whether or not I’m any good. Do I help or not, especially when my help could harm?”

We’re all quiet. There’s the issue. Do I help if my help could harm? Or do I leave it alone? Mack I can save but he won’t move without his kids. Moving the kids might be psychologically and emotional scarring for them. Yes or no? Move or stay?

A few weeks ago, a few months ago, I would have moved Mack without a second thought. If Mack dies, those kids will be devastated. Now I’m … hesitating. What other emotional or psychological problems could be there that I don’t know about?

It’s enough to make you say ‘Fuck it!’

Bobby sighs. “You’re questioning your purpose in life. You’re questioning if what you do is worthwhile.”

I nod, miserable. Ric sighs and sits at the bar. “Sit.”

I look over; he’s serious. I sit and wait.

“You are the best at what you do, Les, and I trust no one more than you. You’re hurt because Steph equated you with every asshole in her life.” I nod. “You two need to have it out at some point. You don’t want to because you’re afraid you’ll completely destroy your friendship with her, but Les?” I stare at him. Ric’s solemn, his dark brown eyes serious. “Your friendship with her is on life support not because of her, but because you’re expecting her to thank you. She can’t. Not right now. She can’t acknowledge she was wrong yet and you expect appreciation because I’ve always appreciated it.”

“We’ve always appreciated it,” Bobby says, throwing his arm around me.

I lean back and shake my head, but Ric smiles and nods. “Yeah, primo. Because you run interference between me and the sisters, you’ve always meddled in my life at will and I’ve never stopped you because I trust you completely. You had free rein to meddle in my life except where Steph was concerned. I finally lowered the wall I had up and let you manipulate my relationship with her, and no one has said thank you and you are owed a thank you. So, thank you, Les. Without your help, we wouldn’t be where we are, which is trying to put this relationship together. We owe where we are to you and I know that.”

I bite my lip and consider this. I finally nod. I do feel better. Someone appreciated the work I did. Ric grins and pulls me into a rough embrace. “Thank you, primo, for having my back, as always.”

I smile. “Always.”

Ric smiles and claps my back. He nods at Bobby and leaves the room. I sit on the couch and smile.

Yeah, I’m a ‘manipulative’ asshole. Thank god one of us is. Otherwise we’d all be dead in Afghanistan.

I grin, buoyed, and hear a laugh. Bobby’s shaking his head. “Better?”

“Hungry?”

“You had a gastric bypass?” I flip him a finger and he laughs. “Seriously! You have the metabolism of a teenage boy! It’s unreal.”

Bobby motions for me to sit. He starts pulling stuff out of the fridge and making sandwiches. “Right.” Bobby stands. “Yo, not every friendship is easy. So we learned that Steph has blinders on when it comes to her own life and her own behavior. She’s quick to ‘help’ and ‘manipulate’ everyone else, but she can’t take it happening to her.

So we leave her to figure it out on her own with the help of therapy. We did our part. Let Hector help her. Let Ric help her. You said you were going to stay out of their relationship, so do that. Put a line between you and her until you stop being angry. In the meantime, Jorge needs and wants help. Mack needs help but he doesn’t like the solution, and everything you’re reading says the solution might be a bad one. What’s the alternative?”

I head back to the living room for my notepad. “Well, he could take over the cross-company group.”

“Not bad,” Bobby says. “Leaves him in NYC, gives him broad-based authority across the company, puts him directly under the CO. It’s an option.”

“Right. It’s about my best option. I could allow him to become an assistant XO. Javi told me privately that Mack’s leadership skills are such that he’d prefer to have someone like Mack as his official second in the office.”

“So why not back that plan?”

Bobby cuts my turkey sandwich in half and takes a bite, then passes me the bitten half. Asshole. I flip him a finger and he grins and gives me the unbitten half.

“Because it doesn’t take advantage of all of Mack’s strengths, one.” Bobby cuts the second sandwich, ham, in half and we kick back on my couch and munch for a while. “Two, it doesn’t really give him enough room to grow. Three, I talked to Thomas.”

Ric returns with his laptop and we call Tank and Hec. We get them caught up on our musings on Mack’s problem.

“And?”

“He thinks Mack needs to leave NYC for a while. As it is, he’s at the mercy of Yala and her demands and his family isn’t really supporting him. Mack’s stretched thin. He’s always been the one to support everyone else, from his mamí to Yala and now his boys. His boys are the only part of that equation that Thomas cares about, but he thinks they’ll be OK.”

“Young children are resilient,” Tank says.

“Right. Thomas thinks that moving Mack to Miami, even temporarily, will do all of them a world of good. Gets Mack away from his family, puts him first with his boys, gives him some breathing space and a new challenge, and he’s thinking of ways to help the boys. If Yala gets federal lock-up, she won’t end up in NYC anyway.”

Bobby frowns. “I thought all female federal inmates from NYC went to Danbury.”

“They’re converting it to a male prison to relieve prison overcrowding, so every woman there now is being transferred,” Ric replies.

“Where would she go?”

I check my notes. “West Virginia is closest to NYC. With Danbury closing, they planned to send everyone to Alabama.” I snort. “If she is convicted, it’s in her best interest to allow Mack to move the boys to Florida. There’s a pen in Florida, north Florida, but that’s better than West Virginia or Alabama.”

“Shit!” Bobby laughs. “In Georgia, we used to say that Alabama was one step closer to hell. Avoid at all costs.” I raise a brow and he grins. “Mississippi is hell.”

“Agreed. Momma would threaten us with Mississippi when we misbehaved,” Tank says.

“Ah.” Regional humor. We all smirk at the idea of Mrs. CJ sending her kids to Mississippi. “OK, so tell me what you think.”

Bobby sits back and stares at me. “OK. One, I think you need a vacation.” I roll my eyes and he smiles. “Seriously. I think we should volunteer to go do some charity work at the beginning of the year. Get out of our ruts, go help those truly in need and get away from RangeMan and de-stress for a while.”

I’m thinking. Yeah, it’s been a while since I had a vacation and I miss our annual road trip. “Where to?”

“Don’t know. We’ll see. Two, I think you should allow us, me and Thomas, to concentrate on Mack’s problem—”

“Me too,” Hec says. “I’m hearing chatter.”

“Really? What?”

Hector shares what he’s hearing and my resolve comes back. Yeah, my men need help. Time to start plotting but I see Bobby shake his head. “You plan it. Every step. We’ll execute.”

No fair! No fun! I pout but Bobby smiles. I know that face. I’m cut out, probably for my own good.

“I’ll contact Piman when we hit Miami. He needs to know,” Ric says. We nod.

We knew this op would come back to bite us but it’s the price that had to be paid.

“You take care of Jorge.” He shivers. “The Bratva? You have a plan for that?”

“Amazingly enough, yeah.” I grin. “Hec did a little snooping—”

“Legal snooping?” Tank asks.

“Don’t ask too many questions,” Hec says. We laugh.

I take another bite of my sandwich. Bobby’s sandwiches always taste great, but they’re messy. Bro has not learned how to stack a sandwich properly. “Anyway, the restaurants are in trouble. Tatiana ‘borrowed’ from them to pay her deposits for the wedding, which is why she’s desperate to get that money back. Her parents are desperate for that money back. Those restaurants are backed by the Bratva.”

The tomato falls in my lap. Ric and Bobby both hide smiles. I flip them both a finger and eat the tomato.

“Money laundering?” Tank asks.

“We’d need a lawyer to review it, but I’d say they’re being used as a front.” I take another bite of my sandwich. “So if Jorge ends up as a floater, Annelise inherits.”

“How much?”

“Enough to clear the debt plus some. Jorge has decent life insurance on himself, plus he’s put most of his assets into a revocable trust with his daughter as the beneficiary.” I shake my head. “Get this. Turns out, Jorge had another fixed trust that he never touched set up for Annelise’s schooling, a college fund, but the trust has a spendthrift clause in it.” I wipe my hands. “Jorge was a slick money man. The principal could not be touched, but if Jorge died the interest could be used for Annelise’s support. At 18, Annelise would get the amount necessary to cover her college education and anything left over would be paid out in increments over the next ten years.”

Bobby whistles. “Slick.”

“Would be good for him to bring that up with the lawyers when he petitions for sole custody,” Tank says.

“Terrance did. The judge was impressed, but Terrance says he’s never seen more calculating looks on the opposing side than he saw on Tatiana’s family’s faces. He had to explain the trusts in open court and reveal that Jorge is not the trustee of either trust.”

“Who is?” Bobby asks. Ric and I stare at him and Bobby rolls his eyes. “Javi.”

“Exactly. Always was and if something happens to him, Jorge designated a backup trustee on the revocable trust but Terrance refused to reveal that in open court.”

“Who would you assume?” Tank asks.

“I had no idea so I asked. Danny is the backup trustee on the revocable trust.”

“He agreed?”

I nod. “Was honored, apparently.”

“Why Danny?”

“If something happens to Jorge, Javi would take over Jorge’s interests. If something happens to Javi, Jorge wanted someone Javi trusted completely, was out of state, and had kids roughly Annie’s age. Plus Danny’s a RangeMan with a finance background. He’d know how to steer Jorge’s assets correctly.” I finish off the sandwich. “If Mack moves out of state, he’d probably list Mack as the backup on the revocable trust. He knows and trusts Mack more.”

“So, Jorge’s fix is what?”

I look at Bobby. “I’m in the mood for Russian cuisine. How about you?”

“You want to do it in person?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

“You’re too recognizable, bro. Who in the company speaks Russian?”

“Victor Zullick. Trenton,” Tank says.

“We’re talking about the Bratva here. I think a discussion with Tatiana is in order.”

“I agree. Jorge’s fingers need to stay off this, but Tatiana needs a threat to fear that’s greater than the Bratva. The money laundering becoming public? The Bratva would put her and her mother on the block until she earned the money. Hell, Annie’s four? Maybe even Annie. They’re not above doing it.”

Ric and Bobby look at me, horrified. I grab my folder and pass them the pictures I snapped. Tatiana is a beautiful woman. Jorge chose a looker for a future wife.

“So . . . we’re threatening her with death or rape?” Ric says.

“We’re agreeing to keep our mouths shut in exchange for some consideration. Perhaps it would be in her best interest to turn over custody of her daughter to her child’s father and work on getting a second or third job to pay back the debt. The clock is ticking and the interest on that loan is rising.”

I wipe my mouth. Both Ric and Bobby have looks of distaste on their faces. “Les . . .” Bobby says slowly, “er . . . did you think this one through?”

“Oh you dear delicate violets!” I mock. “Such distaste for reality! She was the one who borrowed against a Mob-backed business to pay for her wedding. If she’d accepted a smaller wedding, she’d be married. If she’d had a budget and trimmed it when Jorge lost his job, she wouldn’t be in the predicament she’s in. She was with Jorge for his money and she’s trying to soak him now for every penny instead of busting her ass to make that money. Wanna know how much?” They nod. “It started out as $7500. The interest has brought it up to $15000 and rising.”

Their jaws drop.

“Exactly. Jorge’s paying his child support, his back child support, had a college plan in place for his daughter when he wasn’t even getting visitation, and is working hard to make RangeMan NYC a success. Jorge’s done his part and he’s not responsible for her predicament with the Bratva.“

Everyone is quiet. The guys have lost their distaste for applying all thumbscrews and their own benevolent sexism prevents them from treating women as individuals. I don’t have those problems. You made your bed, you lie in it. I don’t care what gender you are.

“OK, tell me, if this were Jorge, who would object to this plan?”

Bobby squirms, minutely. Ric stares at me.

“Exactly. Sexists.” I lift a brow. “If the possibility were death or a vicious beating, all of you would shrug. Jorge’s a man; he’s earned that. Instead, because it’s a woman and there’s always the possibility of rape or forced prostitution, you hesitate. I don’t. She and her parents knew the consequences when they accepted a loan from the Bratva to start their businesses. Their daughter extracted money from those businesses in order to finance a pretense of greater wealth. Who here really believes she wouldn’t have soaked Jorge for every penny he had if he’d stayed on Wall Street as a high flyer?”

Silence on the phone and in the room. Bobby grabs the pics again and frowns. “$15,000?”

“Yeah.” He’s spotted what I did, what made me lose all respect for her. I see Ric glance, take a second glance, and raise a brow.

“Is that a pair of Louboutins?”

“Yup.”

“Gift?”

“Perhaps, but you’re $15,000 in the hole to a vicious transnational gang. Do you hock the expensive shoes or prance around Brooklyn in them?”

“Hand in your man cards,” Tank says. We all flip a finger at the phone. “Yeah, I know. Flipping me a finger. How can you tell what shoes she’s wearing?”

“Louboutins have red soles,” Hec says. We stare at the phone.

“Spent some time with Steph?” Ric says, smiling.

“I’ve learned more about high heels than I ever wanted to know.”

We all laugh. Hec sounds disgruntled.

I point at the picture. “I looked up the purse. $2000. So she’s walking around Brooklyn with one-third of her original ‘loan’ in accessories.” Bobby and Ric stare at the picture closely. “It’s real. So, yeah, she’s in deep. We’re actually offering her some breathing space.”

“You’d inform the Bratva of their family situation?” Hec asks.

“Nope. Would I suggest the NYPD conduct an audit of their finances for possible Mafia ties?” I shrug. “NYPD lockup might be safer as an alternative, but would they be calm enough to consider that?”

“Hell no! They’ll panic,” Bobby says.

“I hope so.” I smile. “And I think Jorge would really like having his daughter carry his name as a Christmas present, while I’m ‘manipulating’ his life. Annelise Mildiani-Ortega. I think it has a nice ring to it.”

Everyone is quiet. Ric and Bobby are shaking their heads and rolling their eyes. What?! Hell, if I’m going to be ‘manipulative’, might as well go all out!

Jorge’s problem was the easy one. Part II will be to send an emissary to the Bratva. That’s where I’ll instruct Victor to make it clear that Jorge has backers who are watching to ensure he and the child are not caught up in the Mildiani’s issues, but that only needs to happen if the Mildianis make a move against Jorge.

“And Mack?” Tank asks.

I sigh. “I suppose I could lower myself to go talk to Tomás.”

We hear a growl. Hector will never forgive Tomás. “Not me?”

“Nope.” I smile. “I’m not a threat. You are.”

—oOo—

Ranger likes to sit against the wall. A quiet way of ensuring no one sneaks up on him and a silent signal: Don’t even attempt.

I sit in the middle of the restaurant, back open to the kitchen, the register, whatever. A silent signal: “Fuck you. You’ll be dead before you draw the weapon.”

I always ensure there’s a mirror with a view of my back for me to watch.

Plus, Bobby’s sitting in the corner watching the window.

My bravado is almost always calculated. I like working from the shadows. Being out in the open? This is Ric’s style.

Tomás walks in with Magic. He stops dead at the sight of me before nodding and walking forward. He motions for Magic to remain standing. I motion for him to sit. He’s blocking Bobby’s view.

“Stand.” Tomás is staring at me.

“Sit.” I’m staring at Tomás.

The standoff lasts until Tomás smirks. “Still paranoid, Lester?”

“You should be.” You’re the one between me and Bobby now and he can see everything you two fools do. Two quick efficient kills and we walk out.

Tomás nods for Magic to sit. While they order, I stare at Tomás. He’s aged well. Still thin and muscular with overly long hair. Hec’s preferred look. I can see why they were lovers. Magic is Tomás’s Hector look-a-like.

Hec doesn’t believe it, but I believe Tomás truly loved him, but he wasn’t brave enough to acknowledge it. Every lover Tomás has had since Hec favors him in some way. Magic is about Hector’s height and has Hec’s dark eyes and five o’clock shadow.

Oh well. Let’s see if he’s still gutless.

“I’ll get to the point. I have an employee who has a problem.” Magic opens his mouth and I cut him off. “Don’t speak. Listen. You have a boss that’s looking at charges. He was staying with my employee’s ex-wife and he left his shit in her house. Now she’s looking at charges for nothing more than having the bad taste to fuck him.”

Tomás and Magic smirk.

My stomach twists. Magic is behind Mack’s problems and I believe he’s behind Hec’s. I need to talk to Mack in depth about Magic when I go to NYC.

“How is Mack doing?” Magic says.

“Doing well. He’d do better if his ex-wife’s case was moving along. That’s where you help me.” I lean forward. “I know the Feds are watching you two. I can either help or ignore their investigation.” Both smiles drop. “That all depends on you. If Leon pleads the right way, and Yala does five, then I ignore. Otherwise . . .” I shrug.

Here’s the test, Tomás. Have you learned anything about trust and loyalty in all these years? You have a man who is depending on you for protection. I’m backing Mack to the hilt. Will you back Leon? Or will you let me intimidate you into throwing him under the bus?

I flick my eyes at Bobby. He signs Scared. Pissed. Nervous.

“Decision?”

“You don’t run shit,” Magic snarls.

I smile. “You’re right. I don’t. But I know this: you’re being watched. At some point, they’ll start closing in.” I sit back. “Not every Inca has the ability to stay a step ahead.”

Tomás stiffens. I knew he would. Every Inca wants Piman’s uncanny ability to stay ahead of the Feds but again, Tomás ignores the fact that no one under Piman has ever served time. Piman is loyal to his men. If I offered this deal to Piman, I would be dead 24 hours later.

That’s how Piman would deal with this. That’s how Ric, Tank, Bobby and I would deal with anyone who came to us threatening a RangeMan.

I look at Tomás and Magic.

They’ll take the deal.

“If she does more than five?”

Wonderful. “I’d like to see that number as low as possible.” I see Bobby move. We’re clear. I stand and nod.

“Les?” Tomás walks over. “Rumor has it Hec’s got a new man.”

I raise a brow. “That assumes Hec’s gay.”

Tomás nods and steps back. I throw deuces and climb in the car with Bobby. He waits until we’re headed back to RangeMan Trenton before he says anything.

“I wasn’t aware the Feds were watching them.”

“The Feds watch all drug dealers at Tomás’s level.”

“Is there an active investigation?”

“Does there need to be?”

Bobby looks at me. I’m smirking.

“You bluffed?”

“Why not?”

Bobby laughs, the sound filling our car. I smile, happy to get something for nothing.

“You’re playing a deep game, RB.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m counting on Yala to care about her sons more than her own pussy.”

Bobby snorts. “That’ll be a first. She had those boys to tie Mack to her.”

Yeah, she did and he still left her. If she didn’t spend all her fucking time trying to find ways to tear Mack down, I’d try to rescue her, but Mack needs to live his own life minus her interference. I listened to the details Thomas filled in. Bobby knows when his liaisons are lying; he’s certain Thomas is telling the complete truth. Yala had Mack and he loved her. She lost him due to her own stupid actions and he’s been punishing himself, denying himself any kind of intimate social life for years because of her.

Plus, she had one of her ex-husband’s former hustlers in her house abusing her kids. No fucking way I allow her to get out before she gets some anger management.

I want Mack out of NYC. I have a feeling, in my gut, that he has to leave. I want to see if Ric picks up on it when he flies in for the review. Mi primo‘s instincts are even better than mine. Mack’s nearly ready to take over Miami and if he does, mi primo‘s office will be rebuilt for him by the time he gets back.

Now, to take care of Jorge’s little problem.

—oOo—

Monday

Javi’s POV

How does he do it?

The ball moved yesterday. Les isn’t here. I checked all the surveillance tapes, but whoever this is cut the feed.

Someone new is playing the game. Just what I need. A new player and I’m pretty sure I know who it is.

I’ve been staring at the ball for an hour, trying to figure it out, when I hear my computer beep. Mark.

“Yo!”

“Yo. Just checking in. How’s NYC?”

“I’m sure we’re number one this time.”

“Pulling for you.”

I grin. “Why?”

“Easier to take you down than Hal.”

I laugh. “That punch hurt, huh?”

“Asshole.”

I turn on the video share and Mark’s face pops up. “Caught a cold?” He looks red and miserable.

“Fighting one.”

I glance back at the ball and inspiration hits. “Hey, you have a few minutes? I could use your assessment.”

His brow rises before he smiles. “I can make time. What’s up?”

I detail the ball problem and watch him take notes. He sneezes and wipes his nose, looking miserable. “I guess this means I’m about to hit the treadmill.”

The moment the weather starts turning, I bring the workout routine indoors. Jorge’s watching. His six pack is coming along. Mack and I took him through our ab routine and he was soaked in sweat after fifteen minutes.

“It won’t kill you. So? Thoughts?”

“Call a full XO meeting. I have some, but Les is a maniac plus you have another player, which means a copycat.”

I IM all the XOs to join me in the video chat. Mark and Hal both appear to be fighting a cold. Everyone else looks good.

“Geez Hal, you told me you had a cold but I didn’t expect what I’m looking at,” Danny says. Hal flips a finger and sneezes.

Candy walks into the frame, plops herself in Hal’s lap and holds up a cup. “Come on, baby. Drink this.”

“Noo …” he moans, turning his head and pointing at the computer.

“Yes … it’ll make you feel better. The computer can wait.” She looks down and smiles. “Drink the tea and I’ll reconsider the nooner.”

Hal turns beet red. I hear choked laughter as every XO moves to mute his line but we’re too late. Candy’s face whips around and she stares, in shock, at all of us.

“Oh. Hi!” She’s red and embarrassed but she gets a reprieve.

“Drink your tea, Hal,” Tank orders. “The nooner will make you feel much better.”

“Yes, sir,” Hal mutters. Candy wiggles her fingers at the screen, kisses Hal’s cheek and leaves with a ‘Call me when you’ve finished.’

“Great. Now that we all officially hate Hal”—lots of laughs—”let me tell you why I called you together.” I go over the ‘ball problem’ and Tank grins.

“I’m off.”

“Sir?”

“Can’t help you here.”

I stare. “You know who the copycat is?”

“And so do you, if you think about it long enough.”

Crap! I thought so. I just didn’t want to accept it. That means I really do have to solve this puzzle. Tank drops and Diego stares at me.

“Mack’s the copycat?”

“Yeah.”

“I could ask Thomas.”

“Please.”

Diego leaves the view and returns, smiling. “Thomas knows how it’s done but he’s been sworn to secrecy. He did tell me that you’re already passing part one of this test, though.”

“Yeah?”

Diego nods. “You have a problem. Who do you need to turn to?”

I drag my eyes from the ball and look at the screen. Each XO is smiling. “You guys.”

“Right,” Mando says. “How long have you and Les been playing the ‘ball game’?”

I hang my head. “From the moment he spotted it.”

“Years?”

“Yeah.”

Lots of loud whistles and heads being shaken. “Son, you are not an island. Ask for help from wherever you can get it,” Mando says.

“Have you asked him how he pulls it off?” Hal asks. I shake my head. “Call him in.”

I call Mack and he walks in. “Sup, son? Need me?”

“Yeah, copycat.” Mack grins. “Asshole!” He laughs and sits in my chair. “Why? Why are you doing it?”

He leans forward. “You just realized that one, Les isn’t pulling off a miracle because I’m doing it, which means there’s logic behind it. Two, I did it when it was clear he wasn’t here because I’m tired of watching you fumble around this, son. You’re a brilliant man, a brilliant boss. You can solve this, yo.”

Thanks, Mack. Thanks for all your support.

I fucking hate Miami. They’re taking my partner and he’s irreplaceable.

“Mack!” Diego yells, and Mack gets up and cranes his head toward my monitor.

“Yo! How’s Thomas?”

“Sweating mondongo. You coulda sent him back with some. I like it.”

Mack rolls his eyes. “He sweat that shit in his sleep. Trust, son, I was trying to pretend he wasn’t in my house smelling like tripe and yucca.” Diego laughs. “Believe me, if we’d packed you some, Thomas woulda ate it before it got anywhere near you.”

We laugh. I point to my ball. “Help me.”

“Aigh.” He kicks back. “I’ll give you the advice Les gave me.” I grab a pen and a piece of paper. “One, don’t over-think.”

“Oh hell.”

He laughs. “Yeah. Don’t be Javi, Javi.” I flip him a finger and everyone laughs. “Two, drop your prejudices.”

I wait for the next one but he smiles. “That’s it. That’s all the help I got.” He stands. “Solve the puzzle.”

“Thanks, Sajak,” I mutter as he walks out.

“OK, let’s walk through this,” Mark says. “What’s the security setup, Javi?” I explain the security I put on my ball. The guys whistle.

“Nice security setup,” Danny says. I’m staring at the ball.

“Any chance we can see the security tapes?” Mark asks.

I start playing them and no one sees anything. The guys start debating possibilities as Mack walks back in. He pops a DVD in my computer and I share my screen so we can all watch. I don’t see anything so I restart the video. On the second play, Diego stares at the screen closely. “Wait! Pause!”

I pause and stare.

And stare.

And stare.

Diego starts laughing. “Javi! Fuck, Les has really been fucking with you, huh?”

“You figured it out?”

“Yes. Think about what you told us.” Everyone’s listening. “There are only two ways to lift security on your ball. One is the touchpad. What’s the other?”

My keys. Diego grins. “Now, re-watch the video.”

I watch.

I see it.

So does everyone else. We all spot it at the same time.

“GODDAMN!”