“Is it hard?”
“No. Just different. Here, I’ll show you on my phone.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Because Idon’t. Leave me alone.”
Benito’s patience wore thin. He shoved his phone into Gianna’s hands. “If I left you alone, you’d be at home with Mum and a locked iPad. I haven’t got time to do this shit every time you mess up, so pay attention, okay? Unless you want to factory reset every time.”
He so rarely snapped that Gianna didn’t protest as he forced her to watch him type in his passcode over and over, while he spelt out the corresponding word, then gave her the phone to practise on. But her silence was mutinous. And suffocating. The front of the Genius Bar line couldn’t come fast enough.
The Apple employee called their number. Benito rooted his feet to the floor and propelled Gianna forward.
She grabbed his arm. “You’re not coming?”
“Nope. Your device, your problem.”
More discontent filled Gianna’s dark gaze. She stuck her tongue out and stalked to the meeting pod, taking Benito’s phone with him.
Sighing, he retreated to a set of white benches to wait for her to realise and bring it back.
She didn’t. And after a while, he didn’t miss it. How could he when the demon phone ruining his life was still angrily buzzing in his pocket? He’d ignored it all day, but alone in the crowded Apple store, it seemed louder than ever.
With one eye on Gianna, he retrieved the phone and cancelled the incoming call while he caught up on the dozen messages he’d missed. All were variants of the same thing.
call me
it’s bad man
they think it’s a rat
call me
we in trouble
i think they made me
Dread filled Benito’s heart, hot and vicious. He rubbed his chest and then his lips as fear laced every sharp breath. If his contact had been made as a rat—even if it was to Benito and not the feds—Asa would take him out. And he’d do itafterhe’d made him talk. Benito knew how that shit went down. There was zero chance his man inside wouldn’t give him up, especially as he’d yet to receive a penny for his trouble.
So put that right. Maybe he’ll have enough to run.
The burner phone rang again. Glancing around, Benito answered. “Yeah?”
“Finally. I’ve been calling since last night.”
“You shouldn’t be calling at all considering what went down.” Benito fought to keep his mind off Mickey—the only thing from last night that seemed to matter. “What the fuck was that?”
“I dunno, man. Someone tipped the feds.”
“Sure about that? Or have they been watching this whole time?”
“I told you, I don’t know. Asa thinks there’s a rat.”
“There is. It’s you.”
“Not that kind of rat.”