Page 4 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“Not in your wettest dreams, principe.”

Cross glared.

Wolf winked right back.

Whatever.

Cross’s attention was already onto something else. “Basically, these guns have gone through too many hands, and their price has been upped again and again to make sure the next guy at least gets his money back. Wholesale is where the money is, right? That’s what you’re saying.”

“For a proper arms trafficker?” Wolf sipped from his whiskey. “Damn right. We’re not doing that, though. We’re just keeping our supply up and having a little extra stored away for a few deals coming up. Nothing more, nothing less. You know how we make our money, and it isn’t through selling guns. We don’t have the contacts to make it work, frankly.”

No, they made money through drugs, extortion, and a bunch of other shit.

Cross liked guns, though.

“You give me a bit of hope, Cross,” Wolf said out of the blue.

“For what?”

“When it’s you doing this, with a head that quick and a brain that smart, nobody will get shit past you. It’s why Calisto forces you to school when you don’t want to go, and why he drags your ass out of bed to go with me on the weekends. You don’t get to just stumble and flounder into this life like a fucking idiot hoping to make something of yourself because you like guns and have a mafia boss for a step-dad. You have to learn. I mess with you to make you learn in a way that best suits you. Remember that—eyes on the table, principe.”

Yeah, he got it.

Again.

“I swear to God, I am going to put a bullet in you one of these fucking days.”

Cross didn’t bother to look up from the gun he was dismantling at his step-father’s threat because he knew it wasn’t meant for him. Sure, Calisto probably sometimes wanted to put a bullet in Cross because he was, according to the man, mouthy, difficult, and stubborn as shit, but he never actually said it.

Wolf sighed across the table from Cross. “Come on, now, Cal.”

“What did I tell you?” Calisto came to stand by the table, picked up Cross’s drink of Seven Up, and sniffed it before setting it back down. “I told you one thing about today, so what was it, Wolf?”

“He was fine. He’s still fine.”

“In a strip club! He’s not even fifteen, for fuck’s sake!”

Cross tipped his head to the side, eyeing one of the girls dancing mostly naked on a stage with a pole just a few feet away from their table. All she had on was a G-string, but he had something better to pay attention to in his hands. His new gun.

“Jesus, look at him, Cal. He’s not even interested.”

“Oh, he’s interested. He’s—”

“Twenty-one seconds to dismantle,” Cross piped up.

“Where’s your kit I gave you? You should clean it while it’s opened up,” Wolf said as though he weren’t managing two conversations at once. Then, he went back to Calisto. “It’s not the first time he’s been in here, or a place like it, Cal. Relax. You said it, he’s almost fifteen. Let’s not pretend like he doesn’t have a stack of pussy mags hidden somewhere like we all did at that age. But if he doesn’t, well … Seriously, he’s not even interested in the girls. Kind of makes me wonder if he’s a little—”

“Not gay,” Cross interrupted.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Wolf replied.

Cross scowled. “Lies. You were. And I’m not.”

“I wasn’t going to say it loudly.”

Calisto grinded his teeth and glared up at the ceiling. “I want to ask if you are fucking with me right now, but I don’t even have to because I know you’re not. I’m not sure if that should piss me off more.”

“I’m not gay,” Cross said again.