“I’m not kidding.”

“Look, Masterson had the set-up to get things in, but Harry still has the distribution.”

“Let us worry about that.”

“So, your mystery boss just sent you to tell us to go get fucked?”

“I was going to say it in a nicer way, but yeah, that sounds about right.”

“You know that’s going to go bad for everyone involved.”

Mal drank some and shrugged. “Some worse than others. Me? I’m just a go-between.”

“You think that means you’re not involved?”

Mal ignored the question and said, “Tell your boss to look for opportunities that don’t get in our way. Like you said earlier, there’s plenty to go around.”

“Seeing how this is something he sees as already his, I don’t picture that going over well.”

“Not really my problem.”

“You sure?”

“Is that a threat, Tommy?”

Tommy smiled and sipped his rum and coke.

“You got any more to say?” Mal asked him.

“Why’d you save Margot?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m guessing whoever is running you wasn’t happy with that decision.”

“No one is ‘running’ me.”

“I’d bet the mystery man giving you orders would disagree,” Tommy drawled as he finished his drink and stood up.

Mal didn’t answer.

“You know I never liked you,” Tommy told him. “I mean, I get how dirty cops are useful, but I have more respect for people who pick a side and stick with it.”

“Do you think I care what you think?”

“No, I just thought I’d tell you while I had the chance. I don’t think you’re going to last much longer,” Tommy replied as he turned and headed for the door.

Mal sent a text as Tommy walked out. He was instructed to text ‘yes’ if for some bizarre reason Tommy said Harry would be fine getting cut out of a significant chunk of his own business and ‘no’ if he had a problem with it.

Mal typed in ‘no’ and hit send as he headed for the back door.

Mal was in the alley when the gunfire started. The way it echoed between the densely packed building on the street, it sounded like a battalion was opening fire. Mal knew it was just one man with two guns. A guy they called Sweeper. Mal didn’t know if that was a nickname or his actual name. He really didn’t care. He did know he’d fire until both extended magazines on the pair of Mac-10s he liked to carry were empty. Meaning he was pumping sixty-four rounds or so into Tommy for—as far as Mal could tell—no reason beyond his boss sending Harry a message he already knew. They’d killed two cops, so anybody with half a brain would know they wouldn’t hesitate to start killing people.

He was almost at the end of the ally when a car pulled in front of him. When the window went down, he expected to take a face full of bullets like Tommy was out front. He knew he hadn’t been a good soldier.

Instead, he was told, “You have one more job, and then I think your debt is paid.”

“I don’t think that’s up to you,” he replied. His debt was to the cartel and setting this deal—cutting them in on an illegal revenue stream they weren’t in on before—was supposed to cancel that debt.

“Lucky for you, it is. They wanted to kill you after what you did at the beach.”

“There’s no reason to kill Margot.”

“They disagree and so do I. She needs to go.”

“Did they say that? Or was it you?”

“Does it matter?”

Mal stared inside and thought about the Colt python hanging under his arm. His jacket was open, and it was well within reach. Sweeper was too busy leaving the scene to stop him.

The boss smiled, “Don’t get upset. I know you can’t do it. Sweeper will take care of her after she tells us where Cassie is. All you have to do is stay out of the way.”

“Then I guess this is goodbye.”

“No, you still owe me Cassie. Even if Sweeper finds her, instead you’re staying on until it’s done.”

“Why do you care about her? You just started a war with Harry Lee. All she does is make noise.”

“She made noise about me. I don’t like it.”

Mal wanted to argue but even if he could make a case for disobeying, the sirens were getting louder, and he couldn’t afford to be seen by the cops.

“Okay, but I do it my way.”

“As long as you make it hurt.”

The window went up and the car sped off. Mal walked at a brisk pace to his car and drove out of there. He wondered if he could just keep driving and somehow forget this mess he’d gotten himself into.

The answer, sadly, was no.