I could keep my mouth shut and have an okay time with Tony at the prom. Or I could do what Iâve trained my entire life to do.
Because the gun shot, Uncle Vito, and the body he dragged out of here? They were all adding up in my head. Someone had been following us, and theyâd been taken down by Vito. I knew there was no way in hell that Carlo Esposito, my father and the most powerful mobster in the country, would let me go to prom with Dominic De Lucaâs son without sending someone from his security detail to tail me.
And I knew who that someone would be.
Joseph Lucas started working for my dad when he was 12 and I was 10. His dad had been my fatherâs most dedicated employee until he was killed in a stand off against the De Lucas seven years ago, so Joeyâd been around most of my life. He was always such a nightmareâburping in my face and yanking my ponytail. I think my dad felt sorry for him, so once he got old enough, Dad would send him on harmless little errands in exchange for pocket money. When he got older, Joey started boxing with some of the other guys, learning tricks of the trade. And since we were in high school together, Dad eventually hired him to be my own personal security detail.
Emily was the only person who knew why Joey was always hanging around, always in the background, never saying much. My other friends assumed he had a huge crush on me, and couldnât understand why I didnât like him back. âHeâs so hot,â theyâd say. âAnd cut. And mysterious and brooding.â
Which, objectively, yeah sure whatever. But Iâd always resented Joeyâs presence, even when my dad wanted him all up in my business and Joey kept his distance anyway. Even when weâd spar at the gym and heâd take his shirt off. Even when he was hanging around the house eating my food, and watching my TV and grinning his stupid charming grin.
I resented Joey because I didnât need a bodyguard. And I donât mean I didnât need a bodyguard because I was unsafe. I didnât need a bodyguard because I could take care of myself.
My dad didnât trust anyone - not even Joey - to completely leave me in their hands. Iâd been trained in Krav Maga, knife-throwing, and three different types of mixed martial arts, all by private trainers from a very young age. I could shoot a gun better than any of my dadâs employees. I knew how to untie 36 different kinds of knots, blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back. And I could track like a hunter.
Dominic wouldnât have killed Joey outright. Heâs too valuable, has too much intel. They most likely wounded him and are keeping him somewhereâŚDominic owned commercial property - a bunch of rundown warehouses on the east side of town. It was a starting point, at least.
I buckled my seat belt and turned to Tony. âI have an errand to run. And Iâm going to warn you, itâs probably not how youâd like to spend your Saturday. So Iâm giving you the opportunity to get out now.â
Tony looked confused. âGet out? Weâre in a parking garage! I need a ride home. Iâm not getting out.â
I turned the ignition. âDonât say I didnât warn you.â As we pulled up to the street, I stopped. Left? Or right? Look for detailsâŚVito wouldâve been in a hurryâŚa big hurry.
I let out a snort when I saw it. âLet me guess. Your Uncle Vito drives a big, black Cadillac Escalade?â
Tonyâs brow wrinkled. âYeah, why?â
I pointed at the black marks freshly smeared across the roadâŚheaded east. âI know those tires. Itâs like the official car of mobsters everywhere.â I took a deep breath. I had ten hours to find Uncle Vito, get Joey back without being seen, and get to the prom. And somehow keep Tony from figuring out what I was doing. And if I failed? Dominic would probably kill me.
I threw my car to the right and slammed on the gas. âHold on tight, Tony.â
@fyaorlandonorth yâall take it from here!