Goddamn it, Frank.

“And how do I know you aren’t just messin’ with me?” I asked.

“I can call him now,” he said, pulling out his old-ass flip phone.

I couldn’t read him.

“Do it.”

The moment he hit ‘send,’ I forced it closed in his hands. “Twenty.”

“Thirty—” he began to counter.

“I’ll find him another way,” I said, standing up.

“Fine, shit, boy. Twenty-one and that’s my final offer.”

Sitting back down, I reached over when he stretched out his hand.

“Next Monday at 8 a.m., he’s going to be at Illinois International Port District to be outta port by 9 a.m.”

“Wait here. A man will come in and give you a bag. You will not look in it, and you will go somewhere I can’t see your face again,” I instructed, already standing up and heading up outside.

Austin leaned against the side of the car, looking completely out of place. He moved for me to take a seat in the passenger side.

“What are you doing?” he asked when I took out a few stacks.

“We settled on twenty-one.” I told him, handing him the bag. “It’s the Santa Claus-looking guy on the left side.”

“You bargained? You do know you’re a millionaire, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“And I’d like to fucking stay that way, thank you,” I snapped, throwing the bag at him. He caught it, shaking his head at me.

“In a strange way, I’m kind of proud,” he chuckled.

“Wait.” I got out, pulling out a few bills to put in his hands. “For the bartender.”

He stared at me for a moment and then didn’t say a word. As he headed back in, I sat back in the car and pulled out a cigarette.

He was only gone for a minute, if that, when I saw them— two of the three stooges I thought I’d dealt with earlier. They came back with friends.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Shifting over the center divider, I sat in the driver’s seat. I leaned back as they walked past the car and into the bar. As Austin was coming out, he moved toward the driver’s side door, not seeing me, just as one them ran back out after not seeing me inside.

“Noah—” Austin started.

“Get in!” I yelled, starting the car. I locked eyes with the man across from me. He pulled out a gun as Austin pulled open the back door.

The tires skidded as I reversed quickly, the bullets bouncing off the front hood. However, one broke the through the windshield before I could get away.

“Shit. Shit. Holy motherfucking shit fuck!” Austin screamed.

“You still alive back there?” I questioned, trying not laugh when he didn’t sit up. The bullet was embedded no more than an inch above his chest in the backseat. His luck hadn’t run out, it seemed.

“I fucking hate this city!” He took a deep breath, sitting back.

I snickered. “That’s what makes it so great. It doesn’t give a shit if you like it or not.”

Not matter what, it would still be Chicago.

Chapter Six

Amelia

“Thank God,” I whispered, leaning into the car seat as Daniel closed the door.

“You were brilliant, ma’am,” Daniel said when he started the engine.

“Really? I thought it very ironic,” a man’s voice said.

My head whipped back, and there was Bo, his face only an inch from mine. Screaming, I jumped back, my hands reaching for the door handle.

“Fuckin’ Christ—never knew Noah had a thing for screamers,” he lifted a gun, pointing it toward Daniel. “Big fella, I’ma need you take a walk for a few minutes.”

Daniel didn’t move, just stared him down.

“You hard of hearing or something? Amelia, call off your man, here. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I would believe you, but the fact that you were hiding in the back of my car with a gun makes it kinda hard!” I yelled, and he stuck a finger in his ear.

“I am right fucking beside you. Please knock off your goddamn yelling! Jesus!” he yelled back, and Daniel reached for the gun. A bullet hit the dashboard, triggering the airbag, sadly on the right. “Try that again. Fuckin’ try it. And the next one goes in your mouth. If I was gonna kill you, Amelia, I wouldn’t let you know I was here, now would I? We gotta talk, and I’m sure you don’t want muscle brain hearing about it.”

I stared at him for a second, his eyes piercing mine. Finally, I glanced back to Daniel. “Go. I’m fine—”

“Ma’am.”

“Go!”

He gave Bo one more glare, which Bo returned with his middle finger. When the door shut behind him, I focused back on Bo.

“Help me with this,” he said, trying to push the seat down, the gun waving in his hand.

“Can you drop the gun?” I asked.

“What does my brother see in a weak wench like you?” He frowned at me, finally getting the seat down in order to sit beside me.

“Did you come all this way to scare me and piss me off?” I asked him.

“I came for a favor,” he replied.

“Again, was all of this needed?” I asked, waving my hands at all the destruction he had caused in such a short time.

He glared, his jaw cracking to the side. “Do you bitch at him like this, too, or am I special?”

“I know you’re brothers. You, on the other hand—”

“I’m sorry. I thought me getting rid of your mother’s corpse would make us close. My bad. Good speech you gave there, too. I’m sure none of them would have thought they were listening to a murderer,” he shot back.

“I didn’t—”

“I ain’t an idiot, sweetheart. If it was Noah, them stab wounds would be a lot deeper. Besides, he’s a gun guy anyway,” he said as, if it was nothing, and reached into his jacket pocket. When I tensed, he rolled his eyes. “Gum. I’m trying to quit smoking. Those things will kill you.”

“I tell your brother that all that time,” I replied, almost reflexively.

He grinned like a mad man. “The day that guy quits will be the day pigs fly. It’s my bad, really. I gave him his first one for his twelfth birthday, and he’s been stuck since.”

“Twelve?”

“Yeah, you see—never mind, it’s a long story. Look, I’ve been trying to be on the lookout for our old man,” he said, apparently remembering why he broke into my car.

“Noah’s looking for him, too.”

“Really?” He sat up, nodding. “I knew he wouldn’t just leave him hanging like that.”

“What do you mean? He’s trying to get Frank to turn himself in—”

“What the fuck?” he yelled at me. The smile he had was gone, and in its place was anger as his fist hit the seat in front of me. “How can he be so goddamn selfish? Pops won’t make it in jail—”

“It’s either that or the Callahans.”

He breathed through his nose, eyes never leaving mine. “We’re family. We don’t sell each other out. I found our old man, and we are going to get him out of the States for awhile until all of this cools down.”

“He shot at cops and lost $200 million—”

“I don’t give a fuck! We don’t sell out family!” he shouted at me and then pointed at me. “And no matter how many time he fucks ya, you ain’t family either.”

“What are you—?”

“I’m saying you better remind Noah that we take care of our own before anyone else. If he doesn’t help pop get out of this, a certain W.E.W.A. award winner might just show up floating in the harbor.”

“Are you threatening me right now? How will that make him help you?”

He shrugged. “It might not. But mutual destruction helps no one.”

Now I knew why Noah didn’t want me to be around him any more than I needed to be. He was only two screws loose from going totally unhinged.

“After everything Noah has done for you, you’d turn on him like this?”

“Shut up. You know nothin’ about Noah or me. And it’s Noah’s choice if I turn on him or not. I don’t want to. I would protect him and make sure you got the blame alone, just like you deserve. But family is different. No matter what they do, you can’t just turn your back on them. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” he asked, opening the door for himself. “Pass on the message. It’s hard as fuck getting to you people through normal ways with everyone gunning for us.”