A DROP OF BLOOD
Enzo, Dante, Matteo, and our men had surrounded the dock from every possible angle.
High ground, blind spots, and Hidden vantage points.
I cracked my neck and shifted my weight.
The cold wind off the Pacific stung my skin, but I didn’t move. After getting the message from Scar's high employer, we had gone through a plan.
Thirty minutes passed and yet nothing.
Then the headlights.
I could see the flash of light from afar until a single black SUV rolled down the long, narrow lane, tires crunching softly against the concrete.
It stopped ten feet behind me. I didn’t turn, not yet.
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