Page 23 of Devil’s Candy

Angel’s not biting, though. “You know it’s not personal. Just like you know she deserved to be let go.”

I look away. Any other man would have done the same. But I’d been hoping to make an emotional appeal. “Does it matter to you at all that it was Vinnie Morelli who ordered her hit?”

That’s got their attention. “How do you know that?” Gunner asks.

“Marco told me himself.”

“Marco’s dead,” Rock huffs. “He didn’t tell you shit.”

“He’s dead now,” I say, narrowing my gaze. They get my message.

“Shit.” Angel scrubs a hand down his jaw. “That was you.”

I know better than to confirm or deny anything. But everyone is reasonably calm, enough that I know it’s safe to move this conversation into the building. “Where can we finish this without cameras?”

Angel shakes his head. “I’ve changed my mind. You’re not invited inside because I won’t invite the snake into the garden.”

“Have it your way. I only wanted to give you a say on how I handle Vinnie Morelli.” The man is going to die.

It’s just a question of when and how…

CHAPTER NINE

Sver

“You don’t handle Vinnie Morelli. I do,” Angel grits out, his hand clenching. “Do I make myself clear?”

I didn’t expect such a strong reaction, and I cock my head, attempting to understand why. Many might consider what I just proposed a favor.

“Fucker shot Angel,” Gunner murmurs, shifting the pistol at his own belt.

Each of these men might outstrip me in their specialty. But I make up for that in sheer breadth of knowledge. I tuck the knife in my palm and place a finger in my belt loop so that I can wrap my palm around the hidden handle of my own gun.

“That is war among men,” Angel replies through clenched teeth. “I don’t hold a grudge for that. What he tried to do to Promise… That is what I can’t abide.”

Ahh. Now it’s making sense. “I understand and I am angry for the same reason. When he ordered the hit on Candy, he made me his enemy.” I know I’m revealing a fair bit to them in sharing this information.

I see Angel’s mouth thin. “Why would he do that?”

“Inside.” I don’t ask this time.

“The video is for internal use only,” Knox says, standing straighter.

“I’ve never heard that one before,” I answer, matching his stance.

A muscle in Angel’s jaw flexes as he assesses me for another few seconds, and then he waves me forward. “Come.”

He turns, leading the way and I follow, the brothers falling in line around and behind me, closing me in a circle.

I appreciate how they move as a unit. It won’t help.

Taking down one man in this formation would take down another three as they fell, especially when we enter the narrow hall.

But that’s when a sixth man appears.

Killian Smith.

I flex my shoulder, feeling the place where a bullet from his gun pierced my skin. What was it Angel said about shooting each other? It’s just war between men?