The Family Business 3(71)

He turned to me with eyes full of hostility. “She loved me!” he roared, and I swear the guy was close to tears. “Me and only me, until your brother came along with his swine-eating big promises. She was committed to me and to my movement.” He kicked forward, aiming for my dick, but I raised my leg in time to block the impact. “And all of you Duncans will die for his arrogance.”

My leg was throbbing, but I forced myself to stay standing. “I guess it’s easy to be all brave when you got a man handcuffed and an entire army out there that can run in and help you.” I shook my head from side to side like I was expressing pity for his sorry state. This was all to distract him from my hands, which were working behind my back with the key.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

The sound of automatic gunfire was like music to my ears.

“What the—?” He pushed me backward then went to investigate, reaching for his gun. He didn’t like whatever he saw, because he slammed the door and locked it. “Time to die, Vegas.”

“I doubt that,” I said. I was now two feet behind him, and when he turned back toward me, I knocked the gun out of his hand, pummeling him. His expression of undisguised shock almost made me break out laughing, but I had work to do first.

I had to give him credit. This guy could take it as well as he dished it out. I had hit him with about fifteen punches and he was still standing.

“H–how the f*ck did you get your handcuffs off?” he stuttered, backing away as he struggled to get his bearings. I showed him the key I’d used to free myself, hoping to throw him off.

“Elijah?” he said hoarsely. I could tell that the reality of this betrayal hurt him more than any of my punches had.

“I guess your men are only as loyal to you as you are to them. Or maybe it’s because you’re a real *. Your boy Elijah seemed to think so.”

“That’s why I just killed him.” He rose up. Now that he had come to terms with my freedom, the fighter reemerged, ready to take me down.

I was not going to make it easy for him by any means. Whether he realized it or not, I wasn’t just fighting for myself. I was taking him down for what he had done to my father, and what he kept threatening to do to the rest of my family.

X did a roundhouse kick and almost knocked me to the floor, but years of martial arts training had prepared me to respond with a back kick that made him drop with a thud. Like a jackrabbit, he jumped straight back up into a fighter’s stance. The two of us were evenly matched and ready to do battle.

Unfortunately, X had other ideas that tipped the scale in his favor. He dove to the floor. It confused me for a second, until I saw that he was going after the gun he’d dropped. Now I was staring down the barrel as he aimed at my face.





Orlando





50


Rio and I stepped off the elevator on the top floor of 26 Court Street in Brooklyn with a purpose. If ever there was a need for desperate measures to save one of our own, this was it—and I was throwing that Hail Mary pass right to Bernie Goldman. I’d called Bernie, asking him to meet with me right after the decision had been made that Vegas would be exchanged for Sasha. I just hoped this meeting would be in time to save my brother’s life.

“Hold up,” Rio said, grabbing my wrist in order to stop me from knocking on the door. “You sure you want to do this, bruh?”

“I’m not sure about anything”—I looked down at my briefcase and squeezed the handle tightly—“I don’t think I have a choice. Do you?”

Rio released my wrist, and I knocked on the door to Bernie’s office.

I heard latches being moved, and then the door opened and we were greeted by one of Bernie’s huge bodyguards. Another equally large and imposing guard was standing behind him in the distance. I had to give it to Bernie: He sure knew how to pick ’em. These dudes were bigger than Junior. One of them looked like he could be a relative of Andre the Giant.

“Orlando.” I heard Bernie’s voice, but I couldn’t see him with King Kong standing in the way.

I eyeballed the giant, and he stepped aside, allowing us to enter. I looked around the oversized suite, which had some very expensive-looking paintings on the walls. Bernie was sitting behind a huge, cluttered desk that only emphasized his diminutive stature. I heard the door close behind us. The jumbo-sized guard slid the locks back into position.

“Gentlemen, please sit,” Bernie said, nodding to two chairs in front of his desk.

“I’ll stand, thank you. You go ahead and handle business.” Rio looked to Bernie. “By the way, I love how you decorated the place.” He picked up a vase from the table by the door and began to examine it, making it clear to everyone that he would rather be anywhere but at this meeting.

Bernie ignored Rio’s dramatic show and spoke to me as I sat down. “Your call seemed rather urgent. How can I help you?” Bernie was always one to get straight to the point. He valued time as much as he did money. Truth is, I think he could sense some weakness on my part too.

“I—the Duncans need your help.”

“What do you need?” He opened his arms as if to say, “I’m here for you.”

“My cousin Sasha has been held captive by Brother X for almost two weeks. As we speak, my brother Vegas is in the process of exchanging himself for her. I need you to help insure that Vegas is not killed by X.”