Page 3 of Always: A Legacy Novel

To the Donati family, he meant.

Cross heard the unspoken words loud and clear.

“We defer to the Marcellos,” Cross said, “on stuff that might affect their business or streets. It’s what’s right.”

“It’s the proper thing to do,” Wolf corrected. “It’s about the respect and the point of the matter, Cross.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Wolf picked up one of the handguns from the table and tossed it over to Cross, who caught it easily. The weapon was empty of bullets, for the moment. Cross flipped the gun over in his hands, looking over the shined metal and enjoying the weight of the weapon.

“I think he ripped you off,” Cross said, remembering why he had wanted to grab his phone.

Wolf was already heading toward the bar.

Cross followed behind.

“Why is that?”

“The last time you grabbed a shipment of semi-auto pistols, it was almost twice the size and only thirty-thousand more.”

“Get on with the point, principe,” Wolf said as he gestured for the bartender to get him a drink.

“Well, if I could have gotten my damn phone, I could have worked the numbers out like I wanted to.”

Wolf shook his head, glancing to Cross as he sat on one of the barstools. “Eyes on the table, Cross, always.”

“Or the men, I know.”

“Not on a phone screen.”

“But I was gonna do the numbers and—”

Wolf leaned over and pinged Cross right in the middle of his forehead hard. “You’re almost fifteen, shithead.”

Cross scowled and rubbed at the spot, suddenly finding the urge to hit Wolf back with the gun in his hand. Somehow, he pushed the urge down. “So?”

“So, I’ll overlook the fact you think you need a goddamn phone in your hands to automatically do numbers for you, Cross, but I’m not going to overlook it after today. You’re a smart kid for such a cafone. Most of the time. You don’t need a phone; you need to use your brain. That thing right—”

Cross managed to smack Wolf’s hand out of the way before the guy could poke him again. “Do that again, and I’ll break your fingers.”

Wolf chuckled. “You could try.”

“Someday I will,” he muttered under his breath.

Apparently, not quietly enough.

“And when that day comes, you will thank me for all of this, Cross.”

“I doubt it.”

Wolf smiled. “You will, principe. Trust me.”

“I think he did, though. Rip you off.”

“He didn’t. The street value has gone up, and Lucian still has to make a profit. He changed suppliers a while back, and unlike my last guy, can’t sell closer to wholesale price like he got them before. That’s why they’re more expensive. But …” Wolf looked to Cross with a wider grin beginning to grow, and clapped the teenager hard on the shoulder; a pride shined heavily in his actions. “That was a good catch for an almost fifteen-year-old kid.”

“Will you stop calling me that?”