Fractured Fear (The Devils of New York #1)

Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42

ZANE

W hen I kissed Spencer goodbye, she was speechless, and a soft pink brushed her cheeks. The sight almost had me beating my chest and shouting “mine” to the world. She probably wouldn’t be into that type of display, but I can always test it out next time.

Asher didn’t hug her or even offer a “goodbye.”

Hmm. Interesting.

Now we’re on the hunt. The Devil in me smiles and is eager. The fucker is practically rubbing his hands together and bouncing off the walls. The shooters may have a head start, but that doesn’t deter me. Instead, all the muscles in my body tingle, and I have to hold back a laughter bubbling inside of me.

“What’s our plan of action?” Asher asks from the backseat.

“Find Hank and see what information he has. The shooters were targeting us . None of the bullets came close to hitting Spencer or Iris. My money’s on Cain,” I answer him while I speed through the dirty city streets, ignoring all traffic laws.

“It could be another favor Cain owes Anthony.” Rio guesses as he rubs his chin.

“We won’t have much more on that until we follow Dustin, and last I checked he was still hiding out at a warehouse in Red Hook.” As soon as I was stitched up earlier, I whipped my phone out to check his location.

“Pussy,” Asher mutters.

Rio grunts in agreement.

We’re all feeling the itch. Patience is usually within reach, but with a storm stirring so close to our front door, patience is a concept none of us care to understand.

Rio shifts in his seat restlessly. “What about traffic cam footage?”

I grit my teeth not wanting to snap at the man who has meant more to me than anyone else since the day I met him. Thankfully Ash is the one to pipe up. “I got Berkowitz on it.”

When I pull up to a stop next to Central Park, where Hank usually sells, we all hop out of the car. Normally I would tell whoever is with me to stay back while I talk to Hank, but this is different, and I know there would be no holding back Rio. Probably Ash too.

It only takes a minute to find him. They say people are creatures of habit. That is definitely true for dealers. They have to stick to a routine so people know where to find them. Some of those people might be three angry motherfuckers ready to fuck shit up in the name of a beautiful Angel.

Arms spread wide as if I’m ready for a hug, I approach Hank head on. “Hanky Boy!” I’ve only called him that a few times. I should have gone more subtle, but I’m eager for a chase.

Hanks eyes bug out of his face and the fucker takes off, too fast for a skinny shit his size.

Rio lets out a dramatic sigh. “ Mierda .” Simultaneously we all shoot off after Hank.

We have done this enough that we have a strategy down. I take up the middle directly following the runner, Rio takes the right, and Asher takes the left.

We have a standing bet. Whoever gets to runner first, gets his drinks paid for at the Black Horse for a week. I usually win, but occasionally I throw Rio or Ash a bone and let them get the tackle first.

Hank ducks and weaves through the bushes and trees, occasionally hurdling over people who are spread out on the grass, skimming the line of second base in the evening light. My blood pumps through my veins, giving me the rush I need. I relish in the way the electricity of the hunt floods my body.

I’m toying with Hank, letting him think he has a chance at getting away, intentionally keeping myself ten yards back. I also need to make sure when I tackle him, we don’t have an audience.

From the right, I see Rio veering towards Hank. Asher isn’t close enough yet, but I have every intention of winning this round. When we’re secluded, I dive for Hank. We roll a few times, but I end up on top and flip him over with his hands secured behind his back.

“Get off me, asshat!”

Rio and Asher sidle up to us breathing heavily while I’m riding the high. Rio’s eyes are blown wide from the thrill as well. Asher is stoic, but he vibrates with the same exhilarated energy.

“We have some questions, Hanky Boy.”

“You could’ve just asked like normal, dickface,” Hank spits, wriggling under me trying to get free.

Rio squats down by Hank’s face, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle between his legs. “Now, now. No need for name calling, hombre . We just need you to answer our questions and we’ll be on our merry way. ? Sí ?”

Hank glowers at Rio, unafraid of the psychopathy seeping out of Rio’s seemingly unthreatening words. He has some balls staring down Rio like that. Other men have literally been gutted for less.

Asher nudges Hank with his foot. “What do you know about a drive by shooting in Chelsea?”

“I don’t know shit!” Hank has stopped struggling but is still tense.

“How about this? You tell us what we want to know, and we won’t take you somewhere else for further questioning .” Rio lets the implication hang in the air between him and Hank.

“You’re crazy. You’re all crazy!” Hank resumes kicking his legs trying to buck me off.

“You knew that from day one,” I drawl. He still doesn’t answer, and I don’t actually want to let Rio loose on Hank. None of us do. So I offer the kid some honey to go with the vinegar we’ve been pouring down his throat. “Give us the info and we’ll set your mom up in rehab.”

Hank stills. He’s always wanted to get his mom clean. I’ve offered before, but he told me to shove the charity up my ass. He’s always kept score between us because he knew he didn’t have anything to offer me that’s worth sending his mom to rehab. But this is important and my offering rehab in exchange for the info tells him as much.

“It has to be a good one. One of those fancy ones celebrities go to. With a spa and shit.”

“Done,” Asher answers.

Hank lets out a sigh and finally relaxes. “Will you at least get off of me so I’m not cutting the grass for free?” Hank snarks at me.

I stand, but none of us give him the space to run again.

Dusting off his clothes, Hank gets up and folds his arms over his chest. He’s posturing, but that’s Hank. He’ll look the scariest motherfucker in the eye and not lose a wink of sleep. “Word is a couple MS-13 have been taking on odd jobs for the right price. Anything goes. Castillo ain’t got a clue though.”

“Word will reach the MS-13 leader soon, no doubt,” Asher states, which is true. Castillo may be a crazy fucker, but he isn’t dumb. He runs a tight ship, if some of his guys are operating on the side without his say so, they’ll be dead soon.

Rio takes a step forward. “We need names, Hank.”

“I don’t have names. Only an address,” he rambles off an address in Brownsville and continues, “The idiots put in a big order and wanted it delivered for a party. They were loose-lipped when I stopped by and bragged about taking on jobs for Cain with Castillo being none the wiser.”

Asher tilts his head. “What kind of drugs did they want?”

“Molly, china white, acid, bud. Anything I could get my hands on.”

Rio let out a whistle and chuckled. “You really pulled through for them, amigo .”

“That’s what I do,” Hank says with a shrug.

Asher nods his head. “Thanks for the info.” We all turn and walk away.

“Wait! What about my mom?” Hank calls out.

“I’ll get everything arranged tonight,” I call back over my shoulder. I don’t turn back to see if he’s satisfied with my answer, he knows I’ll come through.

“Let’s go party with some gangsters,” Rio says with a violet grin.