Uncontrollable Temptations (Tempted #3)(78)

“I can’t,” he said, handing him back his phone. “He wants me dead. I owe him a lot of money,” he explained.

“How much money?”

“Fifteen grand,” he revealed.

I reached for the envelope and dropped it onto his lap.

“There, now you have the money to settle up and five grand extra to get yourself together. If you do the right thing I personally will give you another twenty grand to get into rehab and get yourself well,” I said, feeling Bianci’s stare slicing into the side of my head. Dispersing forty grand to a junkie may be stupid but I was desperate and desperate people did stupid things.

Anthony grabbed the prepaid phone we brought along with us and handed it to Vinny.

“Call your dealer, tell him you have his money and you’re looking for a fix,” Anthony instructed. “Then tell him to meet you at the corner of 23rd Ave and Cropsey,” he added.

“And then what? If he knows I set him up he’s going to kill me,” he stammered.

“He won’t know you set him up because one of my guys is going to grab you too,” I told him. “It’ll be just another drug deal gone wrong,” I explained.

“Make the call, Vin,” Anthony pressed.

He stared at the phone, biting his lip as trembling fingers hovered over the keypad.

“Make the fucking call,” I demanded, as I took the safety off my gun and let the barrel of it dig into his temple. “Make the fucking call,” I repeated.

Vinny let out a whimper before his fingers dialed the number and hit send.

An hour later we were parked on Cropsey Avenue watching closely as Vinny stood on the corner, shivering and waiting to meet with his dealer.

“You offered him twenty grand more than we agreed,” Bianci stated, eyes focused on Vinny.

“Technically, I offered him five grand more than we agreed,” I argued. “We didn’t factor he had a debt with the dealer,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “Twenty-five grand isn’t a lot of money for him to get his shit together with,” I added.

“It doesn’t matter, you won’t be giving it to him anyway,” he said. “The five grand he has left over will be gone by morning and he’ll be back on this corner looking for more,” he said, turning to me briefly. “It’s a vicious cycle man, and Vinny’s lost to it. It’s only a matter of time before we’re burying the poor bastard.”

His phone rang bringing him back to the moment, and he lifted it to his ear.

“What’s up, Mike?” He asked. “Okay, yeah, I see you,” he said, pointing to the street corner diagonally across from us where a van was parked and we watched as Mike turned the headlights off.

Five minutes went by, followed by five more. I was about ready to grab Vinny off the street and beat him senseless for lying to me when a fully loaded Expedition pulled around the curb and stopped in front of him. A man wearing a hooded sweatshirt jumped out of the driver’s seat and rounded the truck walking toward Vinny and instead of greeting him, he slapped him hard across the face. Another man stepped out of the truck and they took turns beating Vinny.

“Shit,” Anthony hissed, his hand moving to the handle instantly. I grabbed him by the back of the shirt and reeled him back before he did something stupid.

I took hold of my phone, dialed Pipe and waited for him to answer. “Now. Go!”

The back doors of the van opened and even with their ski masks on and their guns cocked, the four men were recognizable to me. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and regret filled my conscience as gunshots sounded on the silent streets of Brooklyn, my brothers fired back, grabbing the two drug dealers and Vinny. Mike turned the headlights of the van on and pulled it up to the corner. One of my boys opened the back doors of the van and threw Vinny inside. I watched as they stripped the dealers of their weapons, phones and products before shoving them inside the back of the van with Vinny and closed the doors.

Bianci turned, handed me the keys to his truck before reaching for his door.

“I’ll call you when I’ve got the meet set up,” he said, opening his door and climbing out.

“Bianci,” I called, causing him to glance over his shoulder at me. “Stay safe, brother,” I said sincerely.

“You too,” he replied, before turning around. He switched places with my club, jumping into the van with Mike. The plan was for Mike and Anthony to work the dealers and get them to meet with Jimmy by lying to him and telling them they needed more product. If all went according to the plan, Jimmy or one of his guys would meet with Vinny’s dealer and we’d grab the motherfucker and torture him until he told me where Reina and Blackie were. But things rarely go accordingly for guys like us, so, we had a back-up plan.

Pipe jumped into the front seat.

“Keys,” he demanded.

“I’m driving, move over,” I ordered. We switched spots as Bones, Riggs, and Wolf climbed into the back seat.

“What time is it?” I asked, turning the key in the truck.

“Don’t look at the clock, man, just keep moving until it’s over,” Pipe said, pulling his mask over his head and lifting the flask he hid in his back pocket to his lips. “Fucking hell,” he hissed, as the liquid burned his throat.

“Just keep moving,” I repeated, peeling away from 23rd Ave and Cropsey.