“Holden?”

  Instantly, he woke up. “Cupcake!”

  She smiled weakly as she registered his face in the dim light. “Where am I? What happened?”

  “You’re at Memorial Hospital, but you tell me what happened?”

  The memory was fuzzy. “I still feel so tired and heavy.”

  Holden lifted the buzzer on the side of the bed and called for a nurse.

  “No, it’s okay, Holden. Don’t bother them, I’m fine.”

  “Baby, they need to know you’re awake.”

  “I’m thirsty, and my mouth tastes like shit,” she said.

  As Holden brought her a cup of water, she slowly started to remember. “He said thirsty.”

  Holden lowered the cup to her lips, and she sipped, grateful for the moisture in her desert-dry mouth. “Ari was there. He said I looked thirsty. He…I think they put something in my drink. Oh god…did they?”

  Her hands examined her body as she suddenly let loose with a stream of tears. “Did they?”

  Holden set the cup down and wrapped her up in his arms. “No, Cupcake. Levi said they just walked out about thirty minutes after they went inside. When they came out, they were carrying the blueprints, but you weren’t with them. Instead of chasing them down, he went inside to check on you. He’s an idiot for leaving you alone with them, but he did the right thing.”

  She remembered Levi and how he’d had to wait outside. Her body trembled when she thought of the danger she’d put herself in.

  “Oh god. The wire!”

  “The nurses removed it, and the agents have already been here. They said they have everything they need. They said to say thank you.”

  She wanted to ask if Barrett was going to be arrested now. But mostly, she wanted to know how the fight ended.

  “I won,” Holden declared proudly, kissing the top of her head. “But I don’t care about that. I’m just glad you're safe.”

  Katie’s body jerked in his arms, and she wrestled his arms away to look at him. “You won? You weren’t supposed to win. You were supposed to throw the fight. How are you still here? Like, alive and stuff?”

  He lifted one shoulder, smiling down at his girl, who was suddenly very animated and almost back to her usual self. “That’s the power of love, Cupcake.”

  “Don’t be a ninny. They are going to murder you. Give me my phone.”

  Holden sat back and watched Katie make a phone call to Mike, ordering him to watch Junior’s house, Girardi’s properties, and anyone else who might be associated with organized crime in Newcastle. “I don’t care who they are. If anyone with a Miami address so much as fills their tanks with gas, it’s your job to know about it. Do you understand me, Mike?”

  Holden had to hold back his laughter out of politeness but also allowed himself to feel flooded with a sense of relief.

  She could do her part.

  But ultimately, Holden was going to take care of the problem himself.

  The next day was Saturday, but the Brute Squad could not wait until Monday for their breakfast meeting.

  Declan had indicated he had errands to run all morning on Saturday, and the squad had some shit to discuss with everyone, including Billy. And Billy was the last person Declan wanted to see in Crow Bar.

  On that day, they had a lot more to discuss than the goings-on at the bar.

  Mrs. Fitzgerald brought her cinnamon buns as usual. Holden made the coffee with a lump of stress in his throat.

  “What’s eating you, sweetheart?” Mrs. Fitzgerald asked. She took off her heavy overcoat and plonked down on a barstool.

  “You joining us today, Ma?”

  She nodded and said she had the day off today and wanted to catch up on the gossip.

  Holden knew what she meant: she was hoping to get more dish on Fiona, Levi’s new girlfriend; she wanted to meet the new owner of Crow Bar, and she wanted to hear of any updates about Katie.

  Pouring the woman’s coffee first, he set it down in front of her while she served up the cinnamon buns and then set her famous homemade cinnamon butter on the bar.

  Holden watched everyone else dive into the gooey goodness. He loved this little weekly ritual, and he hated to be a downer and ruin the moment for everyone. But he reminded himself that this was the time to talk about what was really going on. When customers and owners were not around to distract and throw a wrench into everyone’s conversations.

  “Can’t hide anything from you, Mrs. Fitz. Get ready, ’cause it ain’t pleasant.”

  Holden told the story of what happened at the gym between himself and Junior. He told them about how Junior and the Miami Mafia would come after him for failing to throw the fight. That they might come after Katie, and any one of them, too.

  “So we all gotta stick together and watch our asses. Katie’s security guy is on top of it, and she’s safe. But I need to make this problem go away, and for good.”

  “What are we gonna do?” The question came from Dash.

  Levi shook his head. “Nothing. I wish you’d have told me before, but here’s what you’re gonna do, Holden. Quit that league and go to another gym. You don’t want trouble. You didn’t know Girardi was involved in fixing boxing, but now you do. When you know better, you do better. Time to make a fresh start somewhere else.”

  All eyes were on Holden. “It’s…it’s not that simple,” he stammered. “No matter where I go in the entire city, no matter which gym, it’s all the same league. They’ve got control of everything. Or they did. And now that Girardi is awaiting trial, Miami is moving in to take advantage of the lack of leadership. There’s literally no other gym I could go to that isn’t controlled by organized crime. I would have to quit boxing altogether. The managers, the coaches, have all been bought and paid for. And I’ve thought about it. I can’t ask Katie to up and move somewhere else. She’s never going to live anywhere else, and I can’t ask her to live in fear, either.”

  Levi shook his head. “That sucks, man. I hate this.”

  Dash flipped his golden mane of hair and tied it up in a bun at the crown of his head. “I’ll tell you what we do. We kick that Miami ass out of Newcastle. We don’t need more thugs wandering around Dockside. Tell me what he looks like, and I'll take care of it. I have ways to make people disappear.”

  Mrs. Fitzgerald walloped her son on the shoulder.

  “Ow, Ma. Take it easy.”

  “You're not going to make anybody disappear, let alone anyone who’s connected. Are you trying to give your mother a stroke?”

  Ricky, who had disappeared into the office, returned with a legal pad and pulled the mechanical pencil out from behind his ear. “Here’s what we’re doing,” he said, sighing and plopping the legal pad down on the bar. “We make a list of our strengths and weaknesses.”

  All eyes turned to Ricky. “Exsqueeze me?” Billy asked.

  “All due respect, Ricky’s the only one here with a college degree.”

  Mrs. Fitzgerald threw up her hands. “Oh, I didn’t know that!”

  Ricky nodded. “Master’s in Philosophy, Morehouse College.”

  Dash reached for the last cinnamon bun, but Mrs. Fitzgerald slapped it away. “That one is for the one who finished college like his mother told him to.”

  “Harsh, Mom.”

  Ricky looked at everyone like they ought to already know what he meant to do. Levi nodded appreciatively. “I like the logical approach. Go on.”

  Ricky took down notes about the group’s strengths, and weaknesses as everyone shouted them out.

  “We could beat him in hand-to-hand. Easy.” Levi smacked his closed fist into his palm. “We knock his dick in the dirt.”

  Dash nodded. “That is a solid plan.”

  Holden laughed. “I appreciate all of this, but I didn’t mean for you guys to plot out my protection and help me come up with solutions.”

  “Too late,” Ricky said. “We've got your back.”

  Levi rubbed a palm over his face. Holden had a feeling he knew what was going through Levi’s mind. Probably the same thing that Holden was afraid of. Fiona would be raging if she knew Levi was going to try anything against the mob. Likewise, Katie would probably spank his ass, and not in a fun way.

  He looked around the room at his friends, and he saw all of their collective wheels turning. There was no going back.

  “Griff, Honey, you guys should probably clear out. I don’t want the two of you getting caught up in any trouble that might happen after our shenanigans. It’s better if you don’t know,” Holden said.

  He did not have to tell that twice to Griff and Honey.

  After the bartender and the server left, the bouncer friends put their heads together.

  “I can get pretty much any vehicle we need for this mission,” Holden offered.

  Ricky nodded. “We’ll need something with plenty of room.”

  “On it,” Holden said, knowing just the thing.

  “I have rope,” Billy said. “Lots.”

  Everyone looked at Billy.

  “What? I work part-time at Rich Asshole Marina in Shoreline, and I steal shit. You think I’m some kind of weirdo?”

  Everyone answered in a chorus of loud yeses.

  “I also say we get us some balaclavas,” said Billy.

  “You just like saying that word,” Dash said.

  Holden interjected before Dash and Billy got into one of their classic verbal sparring matches. “Face covering is a good idea, though, whatever we decide to do. No telling where we could be caught on camera.”

  Billy’s face lit up then, and Holden held his breath as he braced himself for whatever was about to come out of Billy’s mouth. He knew it would be horrific.

  “We should break into Junior’s house and put a decapitated horse’s head into his bed.”

  Levi scoffed. “And what would that prove, other than we’re complete psychopaths? I ain’t going back to prison for murdering a beautiful animal. Fiona will kill me before I’m even convicted.”

  Holden’s chair squeaked as he squirmed in revulsion at the image. “Nobody is killing any animals, Billy. Don’t be a psychopath.”

  Billy cackled. “Too late! Let’s do some crimes!”

  Holden hated seeing his ex-con friends putting themselves in a vulnerable position. Still, he needed as much help as he could get sending the Miami Mafia a message.

  Moments later, Ricky had sketched out some notes, maps, and assignments. He flipped to a fourth page and scribbled out some more words.

  “All righty then. Is everybody in?”

  Another chorus of yeses.

  Ricky held up the legal pad for everyone to see. It read: “Operation Florida Man.”

  Mrs. Fitzgerald stood and pulled on her coat.

  “Where you goin’, Ma?”

  Dash’s mom shot him a look. “To pray for all of your reckless asses.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Katie

  Katie was not expecting to walk into an empty Crow Bar after her debriefing with the FBI.

  Griff and Honey stood behind the bar, playing a lively game of War with a deck of cards.

  Walter was passed out in his favorite booth in the corner, snoring away.

  Barb and Eugene huddled together at the end of the bar farthest away from the door, drunkenly arguing about their scratch-off winnings while a lonesome Hank Williams song played softly in the background.

  Katie bellied up to the bar. “Hey, where is everyone today?”

  The reaction was quick, but Katie hadn’t gotten to where she was in the world with a lack of observational skills and body language awareness. Honey cast a sideways glance at Griff before scooting off to check on Walter, her eyes on the floor as she carried the drink tray wedged against her middle like a force field. Griff’s brows shot up, and he looked away from Katie as he cleared away the coffee cups and remnants of the cinnamon rolls. “Everyone who?” Griff asked.

  Her day was going far from smoothly, and she did not possess the patience for a cagey bartender.

  “Griff.”

  The single word was all it took for him to spill everything he knew. He peeked up at her sheepishly through bushy eyebrows. “They, ah, all went somewhere to talk about stuff.”

  Katie stared at him blankly. “I thought that’s why they were coming here. And every other day of the week at random times because they have nothing better to do. Talk.”

  Griff lifted one shoulder and pretended to wipe down some glasses, refusing to make eye contact. “I don’t know. I guess they didn’t want me to know what they’re up to.”

  So, they were up to something.

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the guy from Miami, the one that Holden thinks he can handle on his own?”

  At that moment, Griff looked up, dropping the glass he’d been wiping down, looking wide-eyed and panicky. The glass shattered, and Barb and Eugene stopped their arguing to briefly clap for Griff’s clumsy performance.

  Katie didn’t know Griff all that well, other than he seemed unflappable. But at that moment, he appeared…flapped.

  So rattled he ignored the shattered glass underfoot at first, waving his hands in the air and then shushing her.

  She cocked her head at the bartender. “Did you just shush me?” Katie asked, but then apologized when she saw how shaky his hands were. “Griff, are you okay? What is happening?”

  He leaned across the bar and spoke to her up close and in a low tone, “I don’t officially know that they’re up to something, but…they’re definitely up to something.”

  Katie shook her head. “Why can’t they just let the professionals handle the bad shit, like normal people?”

  Griff rubbed his thumb over the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t ask me to tell you where they went. I can’t tell you anything.”

  She smiled, plonked a generous tip on the bar, thanked Griff in advance for the info, and asked him to share that with Honey.

  “Fine,” he sighed. “But you didn’t hear it from me. I’m pretty sure they’re gonna go kidnap that Junior guy and drop him off at the Florida border.”

  Katie let fly a string of curses that made Griff blanch and back away, turning his focus on tidying up the shattered glass.

  Having heard her name, Honey scooted on back to the bar and counted the bills as Katie thanked Griff and walked away.

  As she left, Katie heard Griff call after her, “Sweetie, this is too much,” he said, while Honey shushed him and said, “Hell no, it’s not. I still got back rent due from 2020. This oughta take care of it.”

  Chapter Forty

  Holden

  Public service announcement: One thing you should definitely not do when you’re being intimidated by the mafia in your own city is to try to break into one of the enforcer’s homes.

  But when the enforcer is from a rival Miami mafia and, therefore, an unknown quantity, it is incredibly unwise to come up with the plan while drinking with six or seven of your friends and hatch a plan to intimidate them right back.

  It rarely ever works.

  On that day, Holden had every reason to believe the Brute Squad’s plan would not work but all the confidence of a 24-year-old white male with seemingly unlimited resources.

  “What in the Little Miss Sunshine is this?”

  Holden had been excited about this caper and had secured the one vehicle from Katie’s garage that would actually have enough room to carry out this mission. He had parked it in front of the Crow Bar and waited for his friends to pile in.

  But his face fell when he saw the look on Billy’s and Levi’s faces.

  Dash nudged Billy. “Come on, man. It’s cool as hell?”

  Levi scoffed. “And loud as fuck. How are you expecting to do anything in secret in this?”

  When he said the word “this,” his eyes traveled from one end of the bright blue Volkswagen minibus to the other with a look of derision.

  Billy snorted. “No fucking way am I getting in.”

  Ricky opened the side door and hopped in. “Doesn’t matter, we’re doing this.”

  Dash asked if he could drive it, while Billy and Levi argued over whether they should go through with it.”

  “Listen!” Ricky shouted. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “I agree,” Dash said.

  Finally, after all heads were counted and the rope and balaclavas had been distributed, they were on their way to the house where Junior was staying.

  Dash rode shotgun, which was a good thing because he and Billy bickered the entire way to Shoreline.

  “We’re going to have to cut the engine before we reach the underpass under Ocean Drive, so they don’t hear us approach. Otherwise, it’ll be too loud,” Levi explained to Holden.

  Billy nearly exploded. “How are you expecting us to drag this asshole kicking and screaming all the way from the house to the car parked a quarter of a mile away?!”

  Dash swiveled around and stared at Billy. “Are you a classically trained idiot, or did you teach it to yourself on YouTube?” Dash asked. “No, dude. We’re going to throw it in neutral, and our approach will be totally silent.”

  “I’m not counting on any of this to be silent,” Levi muttered.

  Of course, the silent approach worked. The only problem was the lack of momentum. The driveway up to the house was an uphill climb.

  If anyone driving along Ocean Drive were to look down at Sunset Avenue as they passed over the bridge, they would have seen a group of five men the size of professional wrestlers pushing a vintage blue minibus uphill to the front gate of an oceanfront private property. Holden prayed they weren’t spotted, and more importantly, if they were spotted, nobody called the cops.

  He grunted when they reached the gate, realizing he would have to let go of the bus and type in the code.

  “Hurry up!” Billy snarled.

  “Shut your cakehole,” Holden muttered, trying to type in the code, which Holden had sneaked a peek at after Mike had delivered to Katie a dossier on everything he could find on Junior.