Bitter Arrangement: Chapter 29

Nobody follows me to Pomegranate House the next day. I’m guessing Mantis got the message loud and clear.

I don’t like a tail.

Daron, William, and Eric are already sitting at a corner table waiting for me to show up. Daron’s entertaining the other two with some funny story from his youth. All three of my men have coffees in front of them. I nod at a waitress to bring over a fourth as I pull up a chair.

“And I said to him, listen, you little shit, it’s a fucking stool, not a goddamn dildo.” Daron grins and gestures like he’s climbing a rope, and the other two start cracking up like they’ve just heard the funniest story in the world.

My coffee shows up, and I let their laughter die down. It’s good those three are getting along. I need them focused and working hard, but camaraderie is a big piece of any new group.

That’s part of why I brought Daron on. He’s charming and outgoing, which makes him the perfect social glue. William’s more like the quiet and serious type, while Eric’s still too green to be useful.

“You missed a good one, boss,” Daron says, leaning back. “Should I tell it again?”

“Only if it’s more than half true.”

“Ah, damn, then I’d better not.”

William shakes his head, still smiling. “I knew you were full of it.”

“That really didn’t happen?” Eric seems disappointed. “What about the perfect hack?”

“That, my young friend, was real.” Daron’s eyes sparkle as he glances at me. “You know that story, right?”

“Daron can’t go ten minutes without talking about his crowning achievement.” I sip my coffee and try not to laugh.

“I broke into a bank and pinned it on the bastard that stole my fucking girlfriend!” Daron leans back and stretches. “Poor bastard never should’ve touched her.”

“The worst part is you didn’t actually like that girl,” I point out.

“It’s true.” Daron steeples his fingers. “I was going to break up with her anyway. But it was the principle.”

“Cold,” William says, shaking his head.

“I love it.” Eric raises his coffee. “To pointless revenge.”

“The best kind,” Daron agrees. They toast, and I let them bullshit for a few more minutes before I call the meeting to order.

We go over some operational details first. What facilities we’ll use, security best practices, that sort of thing. William has a few thoughts on some hacks we can pull off, and we discuss those for a little bit. I direct the conversation, but I welcome input from everyone else and try to pull Eric out of his shell a few times throughout the meeting.

Toward the end, I knock my knuckles on the table to get their attention. “I have a personal request,” I say, glancing over at Daron. The expression on his face is deeply skeptical. “My wife’s brother is having some trouble with Los Sombras.”

William’s eyebrows raise. Eric leans back in his chair, arms crossed. Daron’s the only one that speaks up.

“And what’s that have to do with us?” he asks, keeping his tone light and casual, almost like he’s just kidding around.

But there’s an edge, like a warning. He’s trying to say: you already pulled me into some bullshit, don’t do it again.

“All I’m looking for is information. My brother-in-law pulled a heist out in Vegas recently that went all wrong. I want to know who he was there with and how they were connected with Los Sombras. I also need to know which Los Sombras agents are in Baltimore right now. Anything you three can get me will help.”

“Just information?” Eric asks, perking up slightly. “I can do that.”

“Hold on,” William says. “Los Sombras is serious shit.”

“They’re just a cartel.” Eric waves a hand. “I know some guys I can talk to.”

“This isn’t official business,” I point out. “There’s no job attached.”

“Let’s say I’m just trying to prove my worth for now.” Eric grins at me and practically jumps to his feet. “Give me a couple days, boss. I’ll handle this.”

He walks off. I watch him go, feeling like maybe I just did something wrong.

William heads out next. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself killed,” he murmurs on the way and follows after Eric.

Daron studies me from across the table. He drinks his coffee, eyes narrowed. I meet his gaze.

“Go ahead. Say it.”

He tilts his head. “Say what?”

“You know what.”

“You want me to say you shouldn’t be dumping personal problems on your crew?” He takes a sip. “Or maybe you shouldn’t encourage Eric to do stupid shit?” Another sip. “Or maybe you already tried to fuck me⁠—”

“I wasn’t fucking you,” I say through my teeth. “You don’t seem fucked to me.”

“You know what I’m saying.” Daron softens a touch and leans forward. “I get it. You’re in some shit. I don’t know how deep that shit is, but I can smell it all over you.”

I push back from the table. “You don’t have to help.”

“You know I will.” He gets up too, and we walk out of the restaurant together. “All I’m saying is you need to be careful.”

I turn to him, ready to say something sharp, but I can’t find the words. Because the problem is he’s right.

I need their help, but I also shouldn’t involve them.

I’m not asking them to do anything they haven’t done a million times before. Researching a rival organization is almost no big deal.

But what happens after that? Do I drag them even deeper? Would I do it to keep Riley safe?

A part of me knows there are no lines when it comes to my wife.

Before I can muster a defense, a car pulls up. It’s a black sedan with dark tinted windows. Daron steps aside, hand drifting toward his jacket and the gun I’m sure he’s got tucked into the holster there. The car’s window rolls down, and Jeremy Fong stares out at us.

Nobody moves. My heart’s hammering in my ears. Daron’s still got his hand on the gun, and his face is grim.

“Hello, gentlemen.” Jeremy seems genial and professional. “I was hoping I could borrow some of your time, Alexan?”

“It’s alright.” I put a hand on Daron, but he doesn’t stand down.

“You sure?”

I’m almost touched that he’s willing to draw a gun for me. “I’m good. Head home; we’ll talk later.”

Reluctantly, he pulls his hand from the jacket and nods. “Check in soon.” Then he stalks off without looking back.

“You have protective friends.” Jeremy smiles and gestures for me to get in. “But there’s no need for the dramatics.”

I walk around to the other side and climb into the back.

Instantly, there’s a gun in my face. A thickset man sitting in the passenger seat is twisted around and aiming a pistol big enough to blow my brain into a fine pink mist.

“You have protective friends too.” I keep myself calm as I shut the door.

The driver pulls out.

I’m very much aware that I’m trapped in here, and Mantis isn’t the kind of organization that will hesitate to make me disappear. It’s a risk to get in the car, but I have to keep playing this one straight.

“You shot my associate.” Jeremy studies me with an amused smirk. “I’ll admit, we might have crossed some professional lines by setting that tail, but still. It wasn’t necessary.”

“I didn’t kill him.”

“Yes, that’s true. Perhaps I should cut off your hand? It wouldn’t be death, so I suppose you couldn’t get angry.”

I have nothing to say to that. I only stare at him, my jaw working. I made an impulsive move, and I might pay a very steep price for it.

The car keeps driving. I don’t know where we’re going, but I feel like we’re moving in a very large circle with no actual destination in mind. Jeremy goes silent for a little while, and I keep my breathing steady. The gun never wavers. The man’s finger remains on the trigger. I’m aware that if he twitches, I’m dead.

I hope the car doesn’t hit a pothole, but it’s Baltimore. Potholes are an inevitable fact of life.

“I am unhappy about the delay so far.” Jeremy finally breaks the tense silence. He looks at me sidelong. “You seemed very confident when we hired you.”

“That was before I realized how impossible the job really is. But I’m doing my best.”

“Is there any progress?”

“Not as much as I’d like.”

“Then that’s a no.” Jeremy shakes his head. “This is very bad news, Alexan. I had high hopes for the famous Permafrost. But perhaps your reputation is incorrect.”

“My reputation is what it is. I’ll find the object eventually, but you need to be patient.”

“I’ve been patient.” He turns to stare at me. I get the sense he’s studying my face for something. “But you’ve done nothing but delay.”

“I’ve given you honest updates.”

“Can you find it? Are you wasting my time?”

“Yes, I can. And no, I’m not.”

His lips press together. I can tell he doesn’t believe me. I get the sense he suspects something is going on, but he can’t figure out what yet.

He’s suspicious, and that’s bad.

“One more week,” he says finally. “No more delays. No more shooting my men. No more bullshit. You know the consequences of failing the Black Mantis. I don’t need to remind you.”

I glare at him. “One week isn’t much.”

“It’s all I’m willing to give.” He taps the driver on the shoulder, and the man pulls over.

The gun remains aimed at my skull.

“Then I hope our next conversation is more pleasant than this one.” I push open the door.

“A word of warning.” Jeremy leans across the back seat. “Don’t shoot my tails again. Whatever you’re up to, I’m going to find out. I’ll be seeing you soon. And tell that pretty wife of yours that I said hello.”

They drive off, leaving me alone on some random Baltimore street corner. I watch the car disappear and feel my stomach sinking deep into my knees.

He knows something’s going on. His comment about Riley at the very end was deliberate.

The fucker knows, and he’s using her to threaten me.

I control my rage. I can’t do anything impulsive again. That nearly got me into some serious trouble. If Fong didn’t want the watch back so badly, I’d probably have a bullet in my head right now, but he’s desperate enough to overlook one ruined knee if it means getting Mantis’s money back.

One week to go.