“I assume it’s important.”
I sit down at Scarlett’s kitchen table, the prepaid cell in my hand. “Moses is still alive.”
“Yes, he is. Did you expect otherwise?”
My eyes narrow on Scarlett’s wall of salt and pepper shakers, like they could substitute for Karas somehow. “I thought you said you were going to have him taken care of?”
“I did. And I meant it.”
I shake my head, and my knee bounces underneath her tablecloth. “Anytime soon? Because he made sure to get in my head today.”
“What happened?” Karas asks, his tone still conversational, like this doesn’t stress him out in the least.
“We were at a carnival. He dropped a prepaid cell in Scarlett’s purse. Wanted me to know that he can still get to me—or her or Bump—anytime he wants.”
“Ah . . . he must be getting worried that you’re not going to play his game.”
I shrug, even though Karas can’t see me. “Apparently. But I’ve got less than three weeks left until this fight, and if you want your money back, then I need him out of my head. Out of the fucking city. Out of the fucking picture.”
“Are you giving me orders, Legend?”
I hear the warning tone underlying his words.
“I’m just asking if you’ve got a plan, and if you do, what’s the timeline on it? Because I need to know my people are safe.” I tap my finger so hard on the tabletop that I’m probably leaving pockmarks in the wood. “You said we were friends, Crey. So you gotta understand that my people are my whole goddamned life. They’re all that matters. I need this covered, or I’ll cover it myself.”
Karas is silent for several seconds. “There’s a plan. It’s in motion. I’ll make a call and give you an update when I get it. But for now, business as usual. You work. You train. You go home to Ms. Priest. Forget about Moses.”
I stare skyward, from his lips to God’s ears. “You make it sound like it’s easy.”
Something clinks over the phone line, and it sounds like Karas is pouring himself a drink.
“It is. Focus on what’s important. Don’t get distracted. Have a good night, Legend. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ends, and I’m left sitting at Scarlett’s kitchen table without any more answers than I had before I dialed his number.
Do I trust Karas? His father is Dominic Casso, who was the head of the Casso crime family for the last twenty or so years. Do I have the choice to do anything but trust him?
I think of my other options.
Eduardo, Q’s PI buddy, refused to look into Moses. I don’t have another PI who’s even crazier, so that leaves me and Q doing the legwork. But it’s my problem, not Q’s, and he’s got enough on his plate right now with running the club without much help from me because of all the hours I’m putting in at the gym.
So that leaves me. Hunting Moses. On my own. While trying to train, keeping Scarlett safe, and making sure I spend time with Bump. On top of all that, I don’t have a damn clue where to start.
I lower my phone to the table as Scarlett walks into the room.
“Everything okay?” she asks with a crease forming between her eyebrows. “You look—”
“Like I’m wrestling with a problem I don’t know how to solve?”
“Yeah,” she whispers. “What can I do to help?”
I glance over her shoulder toward the living room, listening for sounds of Bump.
“He’s all settled into his pillow-and-blanket fort with Roux. I gave him a flashlight and a notebook, and I think he’s planning his career as a rock star.”
That brings a weak smile to my face, but I don’t reply immediately.
Scarlett pulls out the chair adjacent to mine, sits down, and covers my hand with hers. “You can tell me anything. I assume this is about the cell phone and the call.”
My jaw rocks as I contemplate what to share. I want to be honest, but I don’t want to frighten her when Karas assured me everything is fine.
“Yeah. I just called Karas to find out what the hell is going on. He said he’ll look into it and give me an update.” I drop my chin and shake my head. “I hate waiting and wondering. There’s too much at stake.”
I wait a few beats before I raise my head, because I can’t imagine the look on her face is going to be excited. When I do meet her gaze, those gray eyes are contemplative.
“What can I do? Do we need to hire someone else to find him? Because I can pay for that, Gabriel. There’s literally nothing I wouldn’t give to make this man go away so we can go back to living our lives without looking over our shoulders every day.”
Her offer is generous, just like Scarlett always is, but her concern is like a blow to my chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I hate that my bullshit has spilled over to affect her life. It’s the one thing I never wanted to happen.
“I can go after Moses myself,” I say quietly.
Scarlett’s spine goes stick straight. “What?”
“That’s the only other play I’ve got right now if I don’t think Karas can pull it off.”
Her jaw tenses, and she stares at me as she takes several long, slow breaths without speaking.
“You don’t like that idea.”
“Should I?”
I shake my head and stare at the centerpiece that she’s perfectly arranged in the middle of the table. “No. Because I don’t know what’ll happen. Fuck, I really wanted to believe that Karas had this under control.”
Scarlett reaches out to cover my hand with hers. “Did he say they didn’t have it under control?”
“No. He just said it’s in motion, and he’d give me an update when he got one.”
She tangles her fingers with mine. “I know that relying on other people isn’t your favorite thing, but sometimes we all have to. Let’s think about it rationally. If you set out to find and handle Moses yourself, something else in your life is going to suffer—like your training.”
“Or my time with you. Or Bump. Or my time at the club,” I add.
Scarlett swallows. “Whatever you decide to do, I will support you, but I also think that you should give it another week. Keep training. We’ll all stay vigilant. If a billionaire and the mob can’t bring Moses down, then we’ll find bigger guns together, okay?”
Hearing her refer to Creighton Karas and the Casso family as something less than the biggest guns around tugs at the corner of my mouth. She’s doing a hell of a job calming me down and wrapping her head around this completely foreign world I’ve dragged her into.
“Okay. We give it another week, and then if nothing changes, we’ll talk about those big guns.” I lift her hand to my mouth and press a kiss to her knuckles.
“Good. It’s all going to work out, Gabe. I have faith. You should too.”
Later, as I lie in bed listening to the sound of Scarlett’s even breathing next to me, I work on searching for my faith. It’s been a long damn time since I believed in anything or anyone but myself and Q, but times are changing, and so am I.
Then again, maybe faith is like trouble, and it finds you.