water, or coffee?” Katrina asked, sitting on the edge of the sofa.
“Water with dinner would be great.” He took in the small living room, dining area, and kitchen. It was compact and tidy. He remembered their house in Vegas as large, with two stories, on an expansive lot. “Quite a change.”
“What?”
“From where you lived in Vegas. This place is much smaller.”
“It works for us, and our budget. We’re saving so Brady can go to college, and since this meets our needs, we’re able to save more.” Katrina listened a moment, then stood. “Brady’s home.”
The front door burst open, a tall, slender teenager entering. Chaos wouldn’t have recognized him if he hadn’t been sitting in their house.
“Hey, Brady. You remember Gabe.”
Standing, Chaos walked toward him, extending a hand. “It’s been a long time.”
Setting down his backpack, Brady gripped his hand. “You’re right. Kat missed you a great deal after you left. Why’d you do it?” The belligerence in his voice surprised his sister. His grip loosened, arm falling to his side.
“Brady!”
He shot a quick glance at Katrina before returning his attention to Chaos. “You were her best friend.”
“It’s a long story, Brady. I’ve told Kat some of it.”
“Will you tell Mom and me at dinner?”
“Brady, that’s enough.” Teri moved to her son, gripping his arm. “Gabe is our guest. If he wants to tell us about his past, he will. Now apologize.”
“That’s not necessary, Teri. The questions are legitimate.”
“Perhaps, but Brady knows better. Now, everyone in the dining room for dinner.” She whacked her son on the back of the head as they left the room.
Tony fell asleep twice while watching the Snowden home. He’d dumped the too small rental car outside of town, picking up an SUV at another agency using different identification.
When the man wearing a Brethren cut had arrived at their house, his gaze roamed the street, sweeping past Tony’s SUV twice. When Katrina had come outside to invite him in, he’d followed her without another glance down the street.
Tony had heard nothing from Peter Vena. It didn’t mean the news was good, or there wasn’t another plan to scare the family. There could be an actual hit in the works. Tony didn’t understand the endgame for this mother and two children.
The Chicago Mob didn’t toy with their targets. They might take a long time setting up a hit, or perform a kidnapping for leverage against a mark. Terrorizing someone was rare. Tony wished he’d done more research on the family. Not that it would matter. He’d follow orders with a blind eye to the reasons behind them.
Grabbing the bottle of antacids, he removed four, popping them into his mouth. Shaking the plastic container, he made a mental note to buy another bottle tomorrow, before he ran out.
Stifling a yawn, he sat up straighter when the front door opened. The biker and Katrina stepped outside, closing the door. This was a different man than the one who’d come to the Snowden house the last time.
They hugged before he slipped behind the wheel of his truck, waiting until she went back inside. The instant the front door closed, the man jumped out of the truck. His gaze locked on Tony before he broke into a run, coming straight at the SUV.
“Shit.” Tony started the engine, aware the biker still rushed toward him. Turning the wheel hard to the left, he accelerated from the curb, whipping the SUV in a half-turn before roaring away in the opposite direction.
Checking his rearview mirror, Tony cursed, seeing the biker racing back to his truck. He didn’t know anything about the man’s vehicle, but it was a safe bet it had a bigger engine and could outrun his SUV.
Making several quick turns, he punched the accelerator, taking another look in his mirror. A set of headlights rushed forward. Judging from the speed, he knew it was the biker.
Tony had made a mistake by underestimating the man. The biker had been more vigilant than he’d realized, spotting him inside the SUV.
Taking a sharp turn, he drove behind a corner gas station, stopped, and killed the lights. The location allowed him a view of the street without giving away his location.
His breath came in short gasps, the wait doing nothing for the clawing pain in his gut. Tony glanced at the seat beside him. The bottle of antacids lay on the floor, the contents scattered across the rubber mat.
One minute, then two passed without spotting the truck. He’d wait a few more minutes before driving in