Page 51 of Tony

“We could go in there and—”

“We’ve talked about this, Matthew. We were told to observe. Nothing else. Now get that mongrel inside before it wakes up the entire neighborhood!”

I hang back in the shadows as they disappear inside and the back door closes with a heavy thunk, the town going silent and still.

What the hell was that about?

He really did want to break into Sick Boyz. But they are under some kind of orders to observe? Observe who? The Vaughn brothers?

I can get on board with that. Those boys all look like a bunch of thugs. They all look like they deserve some extra, unwanted FBI attention. Because that’s definitely who these coffee shop people are. I’ve met my share of undercover agents. I can practically smell them coming by now.

But that gut feeling tells me they’re not there for the Vaughn brothers.

They’re there for Rosalinda.

She is the obvious target here. I mean, she is one of the witnesses.

I backtrack out of the alley and then head towards the Fort Collins Theater as I think about this.

Could this be the answer I came here for?

Could these coffee shop people be the clue I need?

Alonzo didn’t give me any specific instructions when he sent me up here—just said that Vann’s suspicions couldn’t be dismissed until we checked it out because things didn’t actually go to plan during that last smuggling mission.

The FBI are definitely thinking about ditching our little agreement. Especially after we gave them the slip and ruined their plans during that last job.

I didn’t think too hard about Alonzo’s directive because let’s face it—my mind was overcrowded with this weird obsession I have with Rosalinda.

But I need to pull myself together and focus. Because all this shit is connected somehow.

All of it.

Me, my family, our smuggling, the Boston brothers, Rosalinda, Tara, and maybe even the Vaughn brothers too. Vann did say that his sister is involved with the custom bike-builder dude just down the street. And he did hint around that the guy and his friends had their own run-in with the FBI several years back.

Add in the fact that this town is some kind of haven for discarded ‘witnesses’ and we’ve got ourselves a proper mystery here.

I think about this as I go enter the stairwell to the theatre building apartments and climb the stairs. I hesitate on my landing, looking up at the fourth floor, wondering if I should wake up Soshee and ask her some questions.

But my watch says it’s too early to wake her up with nothing more than a bunch of suspicious gut feelings. So I go inside my apartment instead. Undress and climb into bed.

I wish I could say I fell asleep, but sleep is not my friend these days.

And even though I’ve been up for more than twenty-four hours now, it still eludes me.

The past twenty-four hours have been pretty monumental. So it’s not like I don’t have a bunch of stuff to keep me awake.

But I’m not thinking about the day.

I’m thinking about Rosalinda.

Why?

Why am I so fucking obsessed with that woman?

I should be obsessing over Soshee. She’s pretty, and funny, and interesting. And I get that she thinks she’s in love with Vann, but even I can see, after just twenty-four hours, that they are not a thing. Never going to be a thing.

I want to think about Soshee. Maybe even dream up some possibilities with her. I could see her and me together. We’d make a really good couple.