Page 9 of Fatal Scheme

Yesterday, two men from the Masseria family were found dismembered, their body parts currently rolling in with the morning tide, and our fathers are not pleased in the slightest.

Massi spent an hour being chewed out by his dad, blaming us for not keeping a closer eye on the ground, and while I’d never say it aloud, he’s right.

We’ve both been so consumed with chasing Carter that we haven’t been doing our rounds, shifts, or checking in with the guys we’re forcing to work extra while they cover our asses.

That ends tonight, though, as we’re both gearing up for a full night shift of questioning our men, patrolling the places we’ve deemed as low-protection, and acting like the leaders we were trained to be.

Massi takes this more seriously than I do, but we’ve both expressed our desire to get out one day, finally escaping from underneath our father’s thumbs.

We both take our weapons of choice, kevlar vests, and bluetooth ear pieces, deciding that splitting up to cover the ground we’ve slacked on lately would be the best approach.

Massi is the violent half of our brotherhood, where I tend to hang back and keep my hands clean, not really into the gore that comes with the gruesome act of taking someone’s life.

In contrast, I prefer to play good cop, extracting information before the pay off, proving exactly why we operate so well together.

“How are you ever going to survive without stalking Carter tonight?” I ask, teasing Massi as he drives, his knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel.

“Oh, we’ll be stopping by. She won’t get off that easily,” he says, and I roll my eyes, pretty confident that she isn’t hiding anything – at least anything that he needs to know.

“I already told you that she knows you’re watching her. What’s the point now, she won’t do anything if she’s aware,” I argue, circling back over the same discussion we’ve had since I confessed to talking with her in class.

Of course, I’d left out the part about our flirting, because after a rather dangerous encounter where she pulled a knife and threatened to stab him in the balls if he moved any closer, Carter has become a sore subject.

She’s not bending to his will, or falling all over herself at his feet, and it’s driving him fucking insane, not being able to get what he so desperately wants.

“I don’t care if she knows, Ty. I’m not letting up until I find out what she’s hiding,” he says, cutting the headlights as we get closer to our destination.

Selfishly, I haven’t told him about her laptop, or the fact that we’ve sat together in business economics every day since, afraid that he’d truly murder me for moving in on her, but we have a dynamic, something that I don’t think he’d be too keen on learning about.

Carter is intense, guarded, and smart as a whip, but I also can tell that her patience is a virtue, and it’s running thin.

The longer Massi stakes out her apartment, and follows her around campus, the more likely she is to lose her fucking mind on him.

“Come on, enough about her, let’s get to work.” He cuts the engine, and I shake off the thoughts of Carter, arriving at our first stop of the evening.

Matthew is a low-level dealer, a guy brought on to move product and keep the money flowing, but over the last two weeks, he missed three cash drops, and our fathers are convinced that he needs us to pay him a visit.

Stealing money is the number one way to get yourself killed when working for a Family, and this kid seems to have a death wish, something Massi is eagerly ready to hand down.

Moving in sync, we kick the door down, watching three baked idiots jump out of their skin as they raise their hands at the sight of our guns.

“On the floor. Now!” I command, and each of the men does as they’re told, while Massi searches them for weapons.

Looking around, it’s clear where the money has gone – straight up their noses – as white powder is dumped on a mirror, and rolled up dollar bills are lined along the table.

Massi makes eye contact, and while I only nod toward the table, immediately he catches the hint, rolling his eyes as a deep sigh is the only sound that can be heard in this room.

“You know, Matthew, the only thing worse than a thief, is a fucking junkie,” he says, using the barrel of the gun to tilt Matthew’s chin until he’s looking right at him.

Bracing for a familiar sound, I snap my eyes shut, and just as I do, I hear the piece connect to the kids’ face, the cracking of bone echoing throughout the space.

“I’m sorry, man! We just … we just wanted to party,” Matthew stutters, and I grab the other two kids, ushering them out the front door with a stern warning to forget they saw us.

They have nothing to do with this, and if the rage I saw in Massi’s eyes earlier was a sign, it only proves that this is going to be a long, bloody night.

“You owe the Masseria’s over three grand, how the hell do you plan to pay that back if the product is going up your nose?” He asks sarcastically, landing two swift punches to this kid’s ribs the second he inhales a breath.

Keeping out of the fight, I stand back with a watchful eye on the door as my brother works his anger out on this idiot dealer, lighting a cigarette while the show plays out in front of me.