Page 64 of Logan
Cash shifts his gaze to mine. “As in the mafia Mancinis?”
“The very ones. Think about it. A little bit coincidental Mancini and Cini, isn’t it? And if memory serves me right, Riot took out the leader in Chicago and a full-scale war broke out,” I say. “Then that whole shit storm with that Shade chick.” The female assassin who came after the club after her boyfriend was killed. Not by Riot, but she blamed him for it.
Bratva runs Chicago now, and as much as I dislike mobsters, they’re the lesser of two evils.
Then there’s the Olgettis, who Erica owed a debt to. We stepped in to reunite her with Olive, her daughter, and Amber. Erica used to be married to Amber’s brother. They were both involved in a cult long before Brew or Bronco came along.
“Don’t remind us,” Jett says, running both hands down his face. He and Rock were molested by their father, one of the Caruso mobsters who tried to take over the city some years back. They all fell like flies, and that’s when Rock and Jett found out Bella, Priest’s ol’ lady, was their half sister. Some shit has gone down within these club walls, that’s for fucking sure.
I need a goddamn secretary to keep up with all of the comings and goings around here.
“Jesus fuckin’ christ,” Tag mutters. “Why are we bringin’ all that shit up again? If there’s any more of those assholes we didn’t drop in the bayou, they better start runnin’.”
“The ones that got away won’t ever come back,” Ryder says.
Cash is still looking at me. I turn to face him. “Payden your ol’ lady?”
“The fuck?” Brew interrupts, but we both ignore him.
“No, but she’s under my protection. She saw one of her colleagues with a bullet in her brain up close and personal. Says she’s okay, but I know she’s not. If these assholes are sure they didn’t kill her, they’re gonna come after her again.”
Cash is about to answer when Sawyer comes busting into the meeting room. He’s been running, and he’s holding somethingin his palm. “Found this,” he says, trying to catch his breath. He tosses it at me.
“What the fuck is that?”
“Trackin’ device,” my brothers say in unison.
“Where the fuck did you find that?” I balk, looking down at the shiny metal, about the size of a penny.
“Did a sweep of Payden’s purse, it was in the bottom. I suspect she’s got them all over her shit at home.”
“Didn’t she say she lost her key at the gym?” Haze puts in.
“I’d be willing to bet someone stole them, and at the same time, put the tags in her clothing, briefcase, shoes, who knows. Need to find out if she has anythin’ else with her that could have a device in there.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, tossing it over to Cash who examines it as well.
“Which is gonna lead them straight to us,” Cash says. “Is this still active?”
Sawyer shakes his head. “Managed to disable it without smashing it to pieces. I wanna dissect it because this is a really fuckin’ expensive tracker.”
I glance at Cash. “What were you gonna say, before Sawyer came in?”
Cash doesn’t mince with words, and he’s the straightest shooter I’ve ever met. Which is why we haven’t always gotten along. That’s water under the bridge now, though. “Could be a way out of this. A way to keep Payden safe, and these bastards away from the clubhouse.”
“I’m listenin’.”
Silence falls around the table, then Cash says, “We fake her death.”
My eyes widen. Okay, I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “What the fuck?”
“Makes sense,” he goes on.
“Only makes sense if they haven’t seen her after the shootin’,” Harlem points out. “They ransacked her place. Her doorman saw her just earlier.”
“Right, ransacked—they weren’t just lookin’ for her, they were lookin’ for something,” I say. “We’ll pay Danny off, make sure he doesn’t say shit. Payden says she doesn’t have anything—well, that she knows of. All the files to do with the case are on a secure server.”
“Maybe she does have something and she doesn’t know it,” Sawyer suggests. “Like the bugs I found. She wouldn’t have known. We can assume her apartment was bugged as well.”
