23. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

I get an update from my uncle that isn't much of an update at all. He tells me he hasn't found anything yet but he's still looking. Banks hasn't found anything either, but apparently, he's been told by Remington to go full force on finding out who the Piano Man is and doesn't have much time for anything else. Part of me wants to give up the information to Banks because he's a good guy and Remi is probably stressing him out.

But I can't do that.

I know there are people after me that have something to do with my parents. Giving Banks info on the Piano Man would free up time for him to help me with finding who's after me, but it would also mean Remi sending an army after Sev. I have to weigh my options, and giving up Sev is not an option. He's mine to kill.

Right now, I have other things to focus on, though. Like the two Irish guys I've been following for half the day. Reese sent me everything I needed to find them, which made it easy. The Irish used to handle Boston, but we took it over when they got a little crazy with Reese's girl. Reginald is good for deals. He gave us manpower; we gave him all the territory.

Boston is not my favorite place to visit. And I hate offing people in locations I'm not familiar with. But I agreed to do this because Reese can't. So I got out here last night, knowing these two Irish pricks would be here first thing this morning. I've been following them ever since, while sending updates to Winston, the Bellanca Boy out here who's in charge of handling all this shit.

He gave me the okay to off them if needed. But I'm pretty sure these guys are not going to do something that'll require that. At least, I hope they aren't that stupid. According to Reese, they just wanted to scope things out. Whatever that means. I don't trust where Reese gets his information from. Not unless it's Banks, which this wasn't.

Typically we aren't trigger happy, but with the change over here still being fresh, even the hint of an Irish accent is getting you a bullet to the head. Which is why I made sure to update Winston. I don't want these guys dead. I want to know what the fuck they're up to. What their plan is.

So far, they've gone around to all their old spots, walking in like they own the place, only to leave more pissed than when they went in.

When they make their way down to the docks, I follow. Morons don't even know they're being followed. I swear, they have no fucking brains. Or they're too cocky. Maybe they think because they haven't been shot yet, they won't be. They can't really be so stupid to think that, can they? They must know if they're still alive it's because we want them to be.

They disappear into one of the warehouses. So I sit and wait in my car, watching to see what happens. The last thing I need to do is act prematurely. I'm watching and getting info to see what the best course of action is. And if that is nothing, then it's nothing. Reese will have to deal with it.

About an hour later, one of the guys walks out casually and goes to his car. The other one is nowhere to be found. The one who walked out gets inside his rental, starts it, and drives off. I wait a beat, trying to decide if I want to follow the guy leaving or head inside to see what the fuck is going on. I decide on the latter. What if shit's going sideways and they need help? Unlikely, but a possibility. I've got the rental's license plate. I'll find it if I need to.

I get out of my car and head toward the building. The scent of ocean and fish assaults my nose as the calm waves lap at the sea wall. To the left are a bunch of buildings, and to the right is just the ocean. The docks. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up with the strangest sensation of being watched. I keep going, but when the feeling doesn't let up, I pull my gun from my waist band and turn toward the shadows between the buildings.

"Get the fuck out here," I say loud enough that they'd be able to hear me but not loud enough it'd cause concern inside the warehouse. Maybe it's the other Irish guy wondering why I'm following him. Maybe it's the people following me that Sev told me about. Maybe it's a drunk couple fucking. Or maybe… it's Sev himself.

I roll my eyes as he steps from the shadows enough for me to see his tall frame. It couldn't possibly be anyone else. With a groan, I put my gun away and stalk toward him. He's grinning when I reach him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I hiss.

"Following you."

"Why?"

He shrugs, smiling. "It's what I do."

"But why? And don't tell me it's because of the game."

Though, it very well could be. Maybe he was trying to take me for the next letter. Well, guess what? I got one up on him. I'm learning, just like I said I would. Took a little longer than I wanted, but he's not getting me this time.

"Because I like watching you."

I scoff. "What is wrong with you?"

"A lot of things, probably."

"Clearly." I take a step back. "I've got shit to do, so if you don't mind—"

"You don't wanna do that."

I raise a brow and ask, "Excuse me?"

He jerks his chin toward the warehouse. "Go in there. You don't wanna do that."

This man is infuriating. He follows me all the way from the Chicago area to Boston to tell me not to go inside a warehouse?

"And why not?"

"They'll kill you."

I bark out a laugh. "I work for them. I have protection." I don't explain all of it to him because it doesn't matter. Honestly, he probably already knows it all. It wouldn't be the first impossible thing he knows about me.

Sev moves closer to me, lowering his voice. "You walk in there, you're going to see things you shouldn't see. Meaning, they'll have to kill you."

I narrow my eyes then glance at the warehouse. I did find it odd that one guy stayed while the other left. It's why I chose to go check it out and not follow the one in the car. Is Sev trying to tell me there's dirty people working for the Bellancas? Shit the bosses don't know about?

"How do you know that?" I ask carefully.

He shrugs and leans against the building beside us. "I know lots of things."

"Why do you always have to be so cryptic?"

"Because it's fun." He grins at me.

"Not on this end it's not."

"Which makes it even more fun."

I really want to punch him in his handsome face.

"Why are you telling me this? If they kill me you don't have to worry about me killing you."

He lets out a slow and mocking laugh. "Not worried about that anyway."

I pull out my gun and hold it under his chin, pressing the barrel into his skin. He doesn't flinch. Just holds his head still and watches me with interest. I take a step closer, steadying my stance. "Worried about it now?" I growl.

The fucker has the audacity to smirk at me. "Nope."

I grit my teeth, my finger on the trigger. I should pull it. I want to pull it. Just press down on the trigger. It's easy. Simple. It'll be over in less than a second.

Ten million dollars is a lot of money.

A lot of fucking money. It's what I need to get to California. Get away from this bullshit. It's the goal.

But as I stand here, staring into his eyes that are shining with something I can't even explain, I can't do it.

And that is… I can't even find the words to explain how the fuck that makes me feel.

All at once, I pull the gun from him and turn on my heel without a word. I storm back to my car.

"Don't be mad at yourself. I'm kinda lovable!" he calls after me, his laugh echoing around the vacant area.

I mutter a string of curses as I get into my car and peel out. I'm shaking with anger all the way to my hotel, and I only get more pissed when I realize he's probably following me. Yet, I don't care. He wants to show up at my hotel and have a sleepover? Be my fucking guest. Maybe I'll get the balls to kill him in his sleep.

Why didn't I pull the trigger? Why didn't I just kill him?

I'm so angry with myself. So fucking angry.

Disappointment like I've never felt before weighs on me, making me sick. So pathetic.

I get to my hotel room and the first thing I do is change my flight to the soonest one. The quicker I get home, the better. I should call Reese to update him. Hell, I should call Reginald to let him know what's going on. But I'm way too pissed to talk to anyone right now. So I do the only thing that'll make all this shit go away.

I go to sleep.