“I do work here.” Tony keep his tone mild and lightly sarcastic. In other words—normal for talking to his father.
“Is that right? Wouldn’t know it lately.”
“I’m taking care of some personal things.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?” His father’s lips curled into a sneer and his eyes possessed a knowing gleam. Tony’s hands began curling into fists, but he stopped himself, relaxing them.
He didn’t respond, refusing to engage and give his father what he wanted. Instead, he merely crossed his arms, meeting his father’s hard gaze.
He was used to snide comments from his father and he normally just brushed them off, but this time, the comment was cause for concern. How much did he know? Shit. First Veronica and now his father.
Oh, well. There was nothing he could do about it now. He’d deal with things as they came.
His father looked away first, a small victory. “What do you want?”
“I need to borrow your phone. I missed a call from Nonna, but now my phone is dead.”
“Then charge it.”
“The fucking battery’s all jacked up.”
His father frowned. “Use the landline.”
“It’s out.”
His father stalked over to the phone and brought the receiver up to his ear. He angrily jiggled the receiver button. “Goddamn phone company. What the hell are we paying them for?”
Tony stepped into the office. “I’ll have Ingrid call them tomorrow. Just give me your phone so I can check on Nonna.”
“Can’t it wait? I’m expecting a call.”
“Don’t be an asshole. Let me call and check on your eighty-year-old mother. Unless you want to do it?”
His father narrowed his eyes at him, then handed over his phone. “Make it quick.”
Tony stepped out into the hallway. As soon as he was out of his father’s sight, he quickly searched for the app Natalie had told him about. It took less than a minute to install and hide it. His father would never even know it was there.
Then he put in a call to Nonna’s number. It was her night out playing bridge, so she likely wouldn’t answer, which was fine. Her number just needed to appear in the outgoing call record. Tony let it ring twice before hanging up.
He walked back into the office. “Thanks.”
His father took back the phone, saying nothing, not even looking up from where he sat at his desk and not even asking after his mother. Asshole. It was just as Tony expected.
“You need to be careful, son.” The comment was flippant. His father still didn’t bother looking at him, instead staying focused on the papers in front of him.
Tony couldn’t stop his hands from curling into fists this time. “Excuse me?”
His father met his gaze. “You heard me,” he said evenly.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” It wouldn’t take much to put Tony over the edge. He wanted to pick his father up, slam him against the wall, and demand answers. It would be so gratifying. And overdue.
But he refrained. He came here tonight to accomplish one thing. He’d done that. Now he needed to get the fuck out of here before he made things worse.
If that was even possible.
His father worked his jaw, like he was a cow chewing cud. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Oh, Tony definitely knew. The question was how much did his father know? Fuck.
“Is that a warning?”
“Consider it a piece of advice.” His father’s lips stretched into a thin smile.
Tony clenched his fists and stalked out the office before he pounded his father’s face in.
Chapter 21
Tony hadn’t frequented the dive bar in months, not since the fighting ring went under. Now he hoped to run into some of the guys. He wished it were the old days, when he could come here simply to let off steam, because after dealing with his father, he was filled with it. But as with his visit to Adamo, he had a task to accomplish.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and ducked his head as he always did in this part of town. Old habits died hard. Now, though, he had different reasons for not wanting to be recognized.
Standing just inside the doorway, he scanned the room for familiar faces. Sitting at the end of the bar was Darius, another fighter. Early twenties. Got his girlfriend pregnant in high school and they were still together, though not married. Worked in construction. Tony didn’t know him all that well, but that didn’t matter. He knew enough to know he was solid, trustworthy.
However, Tony didn’t recognize the man sitting next to him. Damn. He’d have to wait until Darius was alone, which meant it would take that much longer until he could get back to Ginny. But he didn’t want anyone overhearing the questions he needed to ask.
He walked over and Darius noticed him right away.
“Tony, is that you, man?” Darius grinned and stuck out his hand, pulling Tony into a one-armed hug. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“I hear that. Can I buy you a beer?”
Tony hesitated. He hated to accept because the guys tended to be strapped for cash, but he didn’t want to insult him by declining. Hell, he could afford to buy this damn bar. No way was he taking a free drink. “I’ll get the first round,” Tony said. “You can get the next.” He put a twenty on the bar and called the bartender over before Darius could object.
“Thanks, man,” Darius said after Tony placed the order. “This is Ricardo.” He gestured to the man sitting next to him. Ricardo nodded by way of greeting, not seeming too interested in Tony. Good—just what he wanted.
“Still fighting?” Tony asked Darius after the bartender set a draft beer in front of him.
“Not much. Been working mainly. Tameka has me working two jobs now since she got laid off.”
“That sucks.” And it made him doubly glad he wasn’t drinking the man’s money away. He’d have to find a way to cover the next round as well.
“Yeah.” Darius looked around, then leaned in and spoke quietly. “She thinks I’m working now, but they gave me the night off at the last minute. I wasn’t about to tell her. Sometimes a man needs a break, you know?”
Ricardo stood and tossed a few bills on the bar, then patted Darius on the shoulder and left.
Tony got right down to business.
“Hey, Darius, can I ask you something strange?”
Darius chuckled. “Shit. You can’t ask me nothing I ain’t heard before.”
Yeah, his question probably wasn’t too strange, not in this part of town. He’d probably heard much worse.
“I’m looking for something like OxyContin, but better. Do you know anyone who could hook me up?”
Darius gave him a long stare while taking a swig of beer. “Don’t tell me you’re into that shit.”
“No,” Tony said. “I just need to know.”
Darius sighed, hanging his head. Bingo. The man knew something.
“Tameka’s brother uses. Got hooked on Oxy after a basketball injury ruined his college run. Now he’s moved onto something else. Called High.”
“High? That’s it?”
“Yeah, just High. Raves about this shit. Tried to swipe money from Tameka’s purse to buy more. I had to throw him out the house. Hated to do it because he’s Tameka’s brother and all, but damn, man. He’s out of his fucking mind. I can’t have him around the kids.”
“How’s he out of his mind?”
“He’s been addicted for years, but now he’s worse than ever. Gets the shakes if he goes too long without it. He’s been coming around a lot lately, looking for money and all excited because a new High is coming. That’s all he talks about.”
“When?”
“He said later this week. But who knows with him, you know? He’s so fucked up all the time you can’t take his word for shit.” Darius took one last swig of beer. “Why do you want to know?”
Tony set his mouth in a hard line, looking Darius in the eye
. “You’re better off not knowing.”
Darius shook his head. “That sounds like some bad shit. Tony, you sure you’re okay, man?”
Tony drained the last of his beer. “I will be. Where can I find Tameka’s brother?”
“Isaiah always bounces around. I never know where he is. Hell, he doesn’t know where he is half the time.”
“Does he have a number?”
“Nah, he can’t afford no phone. He spends all his money on drugs.”
“If you see him, let me know. I need to ask him some questions.”
“I can do that, but by the time you show up, he’ll probably be gone,” Darius said. “What do you need to know?”
“I need to know where to find his dealer.”
* * *
Tony took an indirect route back to Kat’s, circling around the city and using barely traveled roads. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight his knuckles locked up. He removed one hand and flexed it.
He’d hit paydirt with Darius. If only Isaiah could be tracked down, then he could get more information on B37—or High as he now knew it was called on the streets.
He’d hoped he was ahead of the release, but it sounded like High was already out there and an even worse version was about to be unleashed.
Goddamn his father. Nonno’s entire mission in founding Adamo was to help people and his father was using High to do the opposite. It was sickening.
Did his father realize Tony knew about High? Had he noticed the missing pills? Tony hated flying blind.
But probably the worst part was that his father seemed to know about Ginny’s situation. Exactly how much did he know, though? Did he know about Veronica?
He definitely knew more than he was saying and he was solidly on Barkov’s team.
No big shock there. His father was nothing if not consistent—always looking out for his own interests. And right now, it was in his best interests if his business partner didn’t have a runaway fiancée. Would he go so far as to sacrifice his own son, though? Probably. Hell, Tony would surrender his father to save Ginny. No deliberation needed for that choice.
If not for his mother and Nonna, Tony would have cut ties with his father long ago and been done with it. He didn’t need the family money—he wasn’t afraid of working for a living. But now, he was entrenched in Adamo, and though he’d first seen it as a burden, now it was a gift. He couldn’t leave his grandfather’s company in the hands of his amoral father.
His father and Barkov could go down together and rot in hell.
Tony glanced at his phone on the passenger seat. Hopefully the app he installed on his father’s phone would lead him to the lab where High was produced. Then he’d turn the evidence over to the cops and let them handle it from there. Adamo’s name would be dragged through the mud, but there was no avoiding that.
At least the production wasn’t on Adamo property. That would have made things more complicated.
He glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw a car riding his bumper. Damn, he was already going nearly twenty over the limit. Fuck that. It was a two-lane road. If that asshole wanted to go faster, he could go around.
The car pulled into the left lane, but instead of increasing speed to pass, it maintained pace with Tony’s car’s back fender.
What the fuck? Tony gripped the steering wheel.
The car swerved right, hitting Tony’s rear fender. His back right tire slid off the asphalt and Tony punched the gas, speeding up as he righted the car back onto the road.
Shit.
When the car pulled farther ahead in the left lane, Tony got a glimpse of the driver. He wore dark glasses and was calm and collected, like he was out for a fucking Sunday drive. The man’s arms jerked on the steering wheel a split second before Tony felt the impact.
This time both right tires slipped off the road onto the grass. The other car stayed pressed up against Tony’s car and no matter how hard he turned the steering wheel, the car wasn’t going back onto the road.
Fuck. There was a ditch—six feet deep and six feet wide—only a yard away. Tony felt his car start to slide down the slippery grass.
He made a split decision and decelerated. Once the other car was no longer rubbing against his, he pulled his car to a safe stop on the side of the road.
The other car stopped three car lengths ahead, the driver not even bothering to get off the road.
Tony yanked on the door handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. He threw his shoulder into it, but it stayed stuck. Dammit. The door was crushed closed due to the impact.
He climbed over the console and exited through the passenger side.
The man was walking toward him. Tony flexed his knuckles and sized him up, the same way he’d done in every MMA fight. The other guy was taller, but Tony outweighed him.
And Tony could guarantee his rage was greater. Fuck, he was ready to lay into someone. This guy fit the bill perfectly.
“Mr. Barkov sends his regards,” the man called out when he was about six feet away.
“Tell Barkov to go fuck himself.”
Tony didn’t wait for him to throw the first punch. He went in with a faked uppercut, then punched him in the face. The man’s head snapped to the left. His reflexes were good, though, and Tony narrowly missed being clocked in the temple. Instead, he sustained a hit to the ribs.
Motherfucker. He’d forgotten how much that hurt. He was out of practice, but never before had he had such a reason to fight.
This was Barkov’s man—Barkov who essentially wanted to enslave Ginny as his wife. If Tony couldn’t take out Barkov, he’d send a message by breaking his lackey.
The man reached behind his back and Tony caught the glint of metal in his hand. Before the man could bring the gun around to face him, he turned his body, pulling the right hand holding the gun behind his back. Then he kicked out the man’s knees. As he fell to the asphalt, Tony stripped the gun out of the man’s hand. He tossed it into the ditch.
He could have used it to clock the man on the head and end the fight, but that would be too easy and not satisfying. Ever since this ordeal started, he’d been itching for a fight.
The precious second he spent getting rid of the gun gave the man time to rise to his feet. The man spun around, his leg flying out and making contact with Tony’s gut. As the man pulled his leg back, Tony took hold of it and yanked it upward, sending the man to the ground on his back—just where he wanted him.
Tony straddled his chest and laid into him. The man’s nose made a sickening crunching sound, signaling it had broken. Blood streamed out of it, coating the man’s mouth and teeth. Tony slammed his hand into his mouth, knocking out a tooth and busting his lip.
The man tried to buck Tony off, but Tony used his legs to secure the man’s arms and continued to pound his face. His head grew lax, and Tony pulled back. The man blinked, his eyes unfocused.
Then Tony delivered one final blow, and the man went limp.
Goddammit! Tony had wanted a fight and he got this. Was this the best Barkov had to offer?
Tony stood, keeping his eye on both the man and the car. Fuck. He had blood all over him. He gingerly touched his ribs. Sore, possibly bruised, but not broken.
Fucking Barkov. Such a coward, sending men to do his dirty work. And he didn’t even send a worthy opponent.
As the adrenaline rush started to fade, Tony’s mind cleared.
“Fuck.”
If Barkov had managed to find him, then he had probably found Ginny.
He shouldn’t have left her. Dammit! He thought she’d be safe at Kat’s, but that was stupid. Nowhere was safe from Barkov.
His adrenaline ramped up again, this time for a scarier reason—he needed to get to Ginny before Barkov did.
He quickly grabbed a towel out of his trunk to wipe most of the blood off his hands, then tossed it in the backseat and climbed over the passenger seat to the driver’s seat.
Tony peeled out, zooming around the other car that was still idling in
the right lane. He used one hand to dial Ginny’s cell. No answer.
Fuck.
He pressed down harder on the accelerator.
Chapter 22
Ginny accepted the mug of hot tea Kat held out to her. “Thanks.” She cradled the warm ceramic in her hands.
“No problem.” Kat sat on the other end of the couch, tucking her socked feet underneath her. “So you and Tony, huh?”
Ginny’s cheeks flushed and she focused on the mug in her hands. It was so irrational—her and Tony. She always made logical decisions, weighing the pros against the cons to see which came out on top. With Tony, though, she didn’t do that. Things moved so fast she hadn’t had time to.
But strangely, she was okay with that. It was like her and Tony’s relationship had been a long time in the making. Her feelings for him stretched back years. Time had only muted and hidden them, not weakened them.
She struggled under the intensity.
“I’m not judging you,” Kat reassured her.
“Oh, no, I didn’t think you were,” Ginny said. “Although I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I realize how crazy everything must seem.”
But it wasn’t crazy, not to her. It was the only thing in her life right now that wasn’t.
“Not crazy. Maybe just—” Kat paused, seeming to search for the right words. “Not ordinary.”
“Extraordinary.” Ginny grinned. That perfectly summed up her relationship with Tony in so many ways. “That sounds so much better than crazy.”
“Hey, have you had dinner?” Kat asked. “It’s late, but I haven’t eaten yet.”
“Actually, no.”
It seemed like so long ago that she and Tony had laid in bed while he ordered pizza. She’d missed lunch and never did eat any pizza. Her stomach was hollow, eating away at itself. Though she had no appetite, she knew she needed to eat or she’d make herself sick.
Kat stood. “I’m going to make spaghetti. Do you like that?”
“Of course. Who doesn’t like spaghetti? Is there anything I can do to help?”
Kat shook her head as she walked to the kitchen. “It’s not fancy or homemade or anything. I’m just going to pop open a jar of sauce and boil some noodles.”
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