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“I’m calling about your brother Rick. I think someone from the police department also tried to call you.”
Corey injected hope into his voice. “Have you found him? Is he all right?”
“He will be. I’m calling to let you know that we admitted him last night for a drug overdose. He’s still here but will soon be transported to the jail.”
He will be. Corey’s blood went cold. “Wh-what?”
“He overdosed, Mr.Gates, but the paramedics got to him in time. He was given Narcan and was soon breathing normally.”
“Oh my God,” Corey whispered, then his whole body grew hot with rage. He swallowed it back and managed a shuddering “Thank the good Lord. I’ll be in to see him as soon as I can. Thank you.”
“Mr.Gates,” the doctor said. “Wait. Mr.Gates—”
Corey ended the call and numbly lowered his phone to the table.
“What?” Bobby demanded. “What is it?”
Corey turned the full force of his anger on Bobby, making the bigger man flinch. “Rick’s alive, you motherfucker.”
Ed gaped. “What?”
There was a moment of silence that stretched on until Bobby snapped. “That’s impossible. I gave that kid enough heroin to kill four people. If he survived long enough to get to Cardozo’s house, then he was doing a shit-ton of H on his own.”
“This is a disaster,” Ed murmured.
“Fucking right it is,” Corey hissed. “Both of my brothers are out there, telling the cops all kinds of wonderful things.” His anger boiled over. “Motherfucking hell, Bobby!” he yelled. “You had one fucking job! To take care of Rick!”
“They’re not my brothers,” Bobby yelled back, leaping to his feet. “This is on you, Corey. Not me.”
Corey rose slowly, his pulse pounding in his ears, his fists clenched. Bobby had a few inches and forty pounds on him, but Corey was mad. Bobby’s gaze darkened and Corey had shifted his body to throw the first punch when Ed grabbed their shirts and yanked them apart.
“For fuck’s sake!” Ed shouted. “Don’t be idiots. Sit down. We have bigger problems.”
Corey lowered to his seat, his gaze on Bobby as he did the same. “What bigger problems, Ed?” But he really didn’t want to know.
Ed turned his own phone around, showing them their own faces. On the NOPD website.
Corey closed his eyes. He’d expected this after Jace went missing, but it was still like a kick to the gut. He’d been so damn careful. Three years. They’d been killing for hire for three fucking years and in one single week his brothers had destroyed everything.
I should have killed them years ago. He was going to fix that oversight today. At least for Jace. It would take a little longer, but he’d figure out a way to deal with Rick, too.
“We are now ‘persons of interest,’ ” Ed said quietly. “Media outlets have picked up the story. We need to be laying low. We may need to bow out of the Doyle job. We definitely shouldn’t be taking chances getting Jace.”
Corey clenched his teeth so hard it hurt. “We will finish the Doyle job. We will not bow out.” And he was totally killing Jace. It was a necessity now. If for no other reason than his own sanity. He couldn’t concentrate with this hatred bubbling through his brain.
Ed huffed impatiently. “Is Doyle still even on board?”
“As far as I know,” Corey said, reaching for calm. “He threatened to kill us if we failed, so he hasn’t called us off yet.”
“He what?” Ed asked, shocked.
Corey waved a hand absently. “Posturing. He was angry and desperate.”
“When was the last time you checked for a message from him?” Ed asked.
“Before I went to sleep,” Corey admitted, new dread descending like a thick fog.
Ed grimaced. “You didn’t have a BOLO out on you before you went to sleep. He may have canceled the job once he saw it. Check again. Please.”
