Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Her rent is astronomical at this point, and she still hasn’t accepted my dinner invitation.
I smile to myself. Stubborn, fucking girl.
I’d rather be drinking shitty coffee in a beat-up old booth, but this is more pressing.
It took way too long to find my friend here and used up way too many favors and resources.
I consider knocking. The bastard might even answer. I know he’s in there since I’ve been following him all day long. Which hasn’t been easy. The bastard’s boring as hell. A trip to Wawa for gas and lunch, a stop at a Target for half an hour, and right back to the hotel. He hasn’t been out of his room in hours.
I can’t give my friend the chance to escape, though. Almost reluctantly, I slam the heel of my heavy work boots against the cheap door. It buckles and cracks open after a second hard kick.
My gun feels like an old friend in my hands as I stalk inside. Yusuf yelps and falls off the bed, trying desperately to pull his pants up. The TV’s playing crappy porn. Moans escape from his laptop. More porn’s playing. Some overly muscular guy’s slamming a tiny girl. They’re both screaming like they’re in heaven or maybe getting murdered. Hard to say sometimes.
“Get the fuck up,” I snarl, pointing the gun down at Yusuf’s face. He’s got one hand shoved awkwardly into the pocket of his jeans. “Do it real slow.”
“How did you find me?” He’s got a vague New York accent. I notice it now that I’m not fighting for my life.
“Your internet traffic. I bet you know what gooning is, don’t you?”
He grimaces, eyes glancing at the screen. “But how did that lead you to me?”
“Your fucking username is Yusuf_jerksit, you stupid fuck. Wasn’t hard to make the connection.” I kick him hard in the ribs. “I owed you that.”
He groans and rolls over. I drag him back up onto the bed, pull his gun from his pants, and toss it aside. He curls into himself as I turn off the TV and slam his laptop lid closed.
He looks younger than I remember. Skinny, tattooed, exposed. His eyes keep darting to the hallway like he hopes help’s on the way. But not in a place like this. Not unless there are gunshots, and I haven’t pulled the trigger. Not yet, anyway.
“Time to answer some questions. Why did you send Hector after me?”
Yusuf only shrugs. “Business. That’s all.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Nobody important.”
I hit him hard. No hesitation. I smack the butt of the gun into his forehead and send him sprawling backward. I press the barrel against his dick. “Try again. Who do you work for?”
“Please,” he groans awkwardly, blood running into his eyes.
“Give me a name.”
“Isak! Isak Vural.” He groans and raises his hands. “Please don’t shoot me.”
“Sick fuck. Your dick’s really that important to you?”
“I’ll talk, okay? I’ll talk, just don’t shoot.”
I resist the urge to do it anyway. Blow this pathetic bastard’s dick to smithereens. How the hell did a pathetic loser like this get the drop on me and survive the fight?
Something doesn’t sit right.
“You knew I was going to be at Hector’s apartment.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. I got a message telling me to be there. That’s all I know!”
“Someone else told you to show up?”
“Yes, someone from Isak’s crew. I don’t know who. They don’t tell me shit!”
“But they knew I was going to be there.”
“Probably. I don’t know.”
I let out a soft, frustrated snarl. “You don’t know much, do you? What fucking use are you?”
“Please,” he whimpers, the pathetic piece of shit.
I want to hurt him. But he’s still useful. “What’s your boss want with me? Why’s he sending me a message?”
“They’re moving on your territory. I was sent here to start laying the groundwork.”
“How?”
“Connections. Money. Weapons. That sort of thing.”
“They sent a pathetic goon like you for that?”
“I’m good at it.” A note of pride in his voice.
I hit him hard in the nose. He groans, eyes going unfocused as he snorts out a torrent of blood.
“How does this Isak think he can take out my family?”
“He’s looking for something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s important. He says it’ll change the balance of power.”
I stare, mouth going dry. My hands begin to tremble slightly, and I take a step back. My pulse hammers in my head.
He’s looking for something that’ll change the balance of power?
Just like I’ve been trying to hunt down my father’s last, most terrible secret…
But there’s no way some random Turkish gangsters know about the Black Book.
And there’s just no way in hell they know it’s missing.
“Where does your boss work from?” I ask, struggling to keep myself grounded. I’m spiraling out in all directions as the implications of this conversation slowly settle on my shoulders.
“New York. The Vural organization’s big up there. Please, I’m just a foot soldier. I’m nothing.”