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We burst from the van and jog across the street. Dante heads for the front entrance as I skirt around the back. Two skinny, erratic men see us coming and then immediately, without making a noise, turn and run up the street. It seems word about the mafia war is getting around.

I raise my gun as I kick open the back door. The pumping music partially muffles the sound, but a Serpent happens to be standing close by. He’s got slicked-back hair and a leather jacket, and, most tellingly, he doesn’t look like he’s on drugs.

He reaches for his hip, and I rush forward, smashing the shotgun across his mouth. I swear I see teeth glinting as they fly through the air. Then he collapses against the wall.

I zip-tie his hands behind his back, then go into the living room to find two Serpents already zip-tied, sitting on the floor, one of them with blood pulsing from his nose. People are running from the house, making no noise, an animal reflex to escape the mafia men.

Dante gestures at me, then himself and the stairs. I get the message. Keep guard while he checks upstairs. I nod. There’s no time to argue in the middle of an op. I aim my gun at the men. Dante goes upstairs. There’s a crash, and half a minute later, he returns, dragging a man behind him by the throat. He zip-ties the man and tosses him to the floor.

He nods at me again, then twirls his fingers, meaning, Let’s get out of here.

I hold up two fingers, and he nods, spinning his rifle on the strap and then searching two of the men, tossing their weapons on the floor. I search the one in here, then go into the kitchen and drag the other inside. He looks woozy, eyes out of focus, probably from the strike to the head.

Once they’re unarmed, Dante jogs outside, getting the van. I start dragging the men toward the door.

“Do you have an idea who we are?” one of the men finally yells.

“Look at him,” another man says, a note of fear in his voice, even if he’s trying to sound gruff and tough. “You ever seen a man that big? One of them is him.”

“Him, him,” the first man wails. “You think I’m scared of you, Colt, you fuck?”

One by one, I drag the men to the lawn and throw them into the back of the van. Then I climb in and cuff them together, turning them into an awkward four-person creature. There’s no way they’ll be able to run like this. Sitting down, I lay my shotgun across my knees.

“Move,” I tell them. “One of you make a goddamn move.”

They all cringe on the other side of the van.

Dante leaves the city and takes us to the forest, where the bonfire is already prepared. He walks over to the fire and gets it started as I climb from the van. The men are lying twisted up, quiet, and shivering with fear. These men would happily jump somebody four-on-one, but now the odds are against them. Suddenly, they’re scared little boys.

I want to check my phone badly, but I resist the urge. I need to focus. I’m keeping the city safe for Lexi, I remind myself.

Dante strolls over to me. “Ready?”

“I wasn’t the one being tested, Dante,” I tell him.

He’s still wearing the mask, but I can see he’s smirking from how the fabric shifts. “What makes you say that?”

“The way you handled yourself in there. I had my doubts, but that was quick, effective work.”

Dante shrugs. “The brothers always set me up with the new guys. Luca told Elio you were an exception, but Don Marino is a stickler for the rules.”

I could choose to be offended here and kick up a fuss about the doubt, but what purpose would it serve? It would just make me look childish. Anyway, it doesn’t matter when you get right down to it. I’m glad Dante was able to operate so smoothly.

“Let’s get on with it, then,” I grunt.

Dante nods. “Sounds good to me.”

CHAPTER 21

Lexi

At three a.m., my phone makes a text alert noise from my bedside table. I peel my eyes open, vaguely aware of the dream I’m emerging from. Colt was in it, obviously, and something else, almost like a baby crying. Maybe Lexy-with-a-y is taking my brain to silly places.

I typically sleep with my phone on silent, but I set it to loud this evening. I wanted to wake up if Colt texted me.

Sorry for the late reply. I’ve been busy. Explain then, Lexi.

His blunt tone catches me off-guard, though maybe it shouldn’t. It’s understandable and fair that he’d be pissed after I invented an enemy, invented all that drama. I sit up, knowing there’s no way I’m getting back to sleep now, trying to think of the best way to explain it.

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