Deep(33)
No, not Brian.
Not Beverly—he’d had a full check done on her. She had no cause, no ties, no experience, no opportunity.
Matty or Chi-Chi. It had to be one of them. It had to be. One of his own crew. When he found out which one it was, Nick would devise a new way to kill.
He would have to tell Uncle Ben about his suspicions and lock down any conversation about their plans for Stone and Church, but otherwise, he would say nothing until he was sure.
With Matty at his side, he pushed the door to his friend’s hospital room open. Brian was ready to go, dressed and sitting on the side of the bed. His left arm was in a sling, and there was a kind of net bandage showing on the back of his neck.
Nick set aside his murderous thoughts and smiled. “You ready to go, crip?”
“Nice—thanks for that. Yeah. I’m just waiting for a wheelchair. They won’t let me walk out.”
“Matty—there was one in the hall. Grab it.” Nick turned to Brian. “We’ll take you down.”
Brian shook his head. “No, no. I’ll wait. You should see this nurse who’s going to take me down. Hot as fuck.”
As if on cue, the door opened again, and a big, bald orderly came in with the wheelchair. “Mr. Notaro? Ready for your ride?”
Brian actually blushed, and Nick laughed, forgetting for the moment his dark thoughts of betrayal and revenge, and focusing on his friend’s embarrassment. “Brian, man. I had no idea. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“Fuck you, man.” Still sitting on the bed, he gave the orderly a plaintive look. “Where’s the nurse? The blonde with the little white cats on her scrubs? Kaia?”
“She’s with another patient. Gonna be a while. I’m your taxi service.”
Nick was still laughing as Brian muttered “Fuck” and moved to the wheelchair.
~oOo~
They dropped Matty off at the warehouse, and Sam drove Nick and Brian to Brian’s apartment. Once they got Brian situated, Sam went on watch, and Nick got beers for himself and his friend. Sitting back in his aged recliner, Brian took the brew with a grateful nod, and Nick went to his sofa. He’d stay until Brian’s guard came.
A vast television and an elaborate home theater and gaming setup took up most of the wall facing the sofa. The recliner was angled toward it, too. Brian liked the simple things—easy women, good beer, loud games, and louder movies.
“Talk to me about Monday.” Though Brian was only a soldier, much to Nick’s chagrin, he was Nick’s closest confidant. Nick wouldn’t break the seal of the Council sit-down, but he could and did tell him about the plan for taking Jackie Stone.
When Nick was finished, Brian nodded. “There a way to do this quiet?”
“Quiet enough. Ben and Marconi are buying some deaf ears. And, Bri—what I’ve told you is for your ears only. Speak to no one about it.”
Brian gave him a long, silent look. “Of course. Nick, I’ve been thinking about what happened—at Neon. About how somebody could’ve gotten around Jimmy to plant that bomb. Jimmy would never have walked away from his post.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
“The only way he would have left is if he had somebody to cover him. Somebody he knew.”
Nick nodded.
With that, Brian put his good hand up and wiped it over his face. “Fuck me.”
“Don’t say more, not now. I’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, okay.” He took a breath as if to clear those thoughts out. “I know I don’t have the right to ask, but I want in on Stone.”
“Forget about it, Bri. You’re clipped already. And this will be bloody. We’re pushing back on a drug cartel to get ahold of Stone. You’re off the clock until you’re whole again.”
Brian lifted his injured arm. “This is nothing. A week from now it’ll be less than nothing.”
“And your back? The burns?”
He shrugged. “Stings, not much more. Another week of healing and I’m almost good as new.”
“Almost. No, Bri. You’re on the D.L.”
Brian finished his beer and set the empty on the little table, nothing but a disc of glass around a floor lamp, beside the recliner. “Are you suiting up for it?”
He was asking whether Nick would be in the thick of the fight. “Church is my fight. You know that.”
“So yeah, then.”
“Yeah.”
“Since when have you gone into something like this without me?”
Never. Brian had been at his right hand long before he’d had a right hand that mattered. But he wasn’t going to risk him. His crew was falling apart. He needed his friend. “Brian. The discussion is closed.”