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  Priest opens the truck’s passenger side door, letting Rosary hop in before climbing in herself, her face stiff. It’s easy to tell she’s still pissed, but knowing her it’s more than just about Cobra and her father.

  I climb into the driver’s seat, but I wait for the four men to climb into their SUV, and then wait a few minutes more as I see Cobra and her father making their way from her apartment, and she remains quiet, occasionally petting Rosary like she’s trying to soothe the rage inside, but even those attempts are halfhearted.

  Once I start driving though, the closer to our destination the more her thoughts unravel.

  “Who just invades someone’s home like that?” she questions. “Like, who in the hell just thinks it’s a good idea to do a little B n’ E on their long-lost daughter’s home?”

  I glance over at her as I take a right turn nearing the old warehouse.

  “An old-time mafia man?”

  “And that, he’s old mafia…something’s going to go down, and Bones,” she says, looking me directly in the eye, as she rubs Rosary’s flank, “I don’t like it.”

  I nod, “I don’t like it either Priest, but like always,”

  She cuts me off, “crew sticks together, I know,”

  I don’t correct her, don’t tell her that I’ll follow her regardless of the crew, that while crew is blood in and blood out, my loyalty to her is beyond blood. If I was a religious kind of guy I’d say it’s soul deep or some shit but that’s too fucking touchy feely for me.

  The moment I pull up to the warehouse, Priest is out of the cab and opening the back of the truck. The roofie guy and his men would be smart to cut the bullshit and get to the point. Though with how long it took for him to get the lesson in Misfits, I doubt the leaders ability to realize that he’s dealing with someone completely out of his league.

  But Priest will show him.

  I watch from outside of the truck, fighting the urge to pull the men out of the back, but I’m already able to hear Priest bitching me out if I did. That’s one thing I know more than anything else, Priest is fiercely independent, sometimes to her own downfall.

  I still get pissed off thinking about how she just left Cobra and I out of the loop when she went after that guy attacking the strippers. Even now, I have no idea how she managed to sneak out of the townhouse Cobra owns, with both he and I living there, and none of us the wiser until we got the frantic call from Burty, the smarmy bastard.

  He’d called, scared shitless that Priest had gotten herself killed. She hadn’t walked away from that altercation scar free, and she probably would have gotten it worse in the fighting ring afterward, from Cobra, if I hadn’t stepped in that night.

  He wasn’t pissed that she’d played vigilante. Honestly, I think he’s actually proud of her for taking justice into her own hands. Cobra was pissed that she’d been stripping, and not to sound like a masochistic asshole, I was pissed about that too.

  She’s a smart woman, Lene had gone through hell to see to that, but sometimes she views the world through this innocent lenses, that everything she’d witnessed as a kid from the slums should have robbed from her, but somehow she’d managed to hold on to it like shards of a broken mirror.

  So, at the time, she was just worried about the girls, and doing her best to protect them the best way she knew how, but as Cobra and I had quickly realized, she seems to have a skewed sense of self preservations. It never crossed her mind that she wouldn’t win in that fight, never crossed her mind that anyone could have decided she was a great target for the sex trafficking ring that was running rampant at the time. All that mattered was taking care of the girls, and while that can make a strong leader, it’s something Cobra and I have been working on.

  She grabs Vin, the leader up by his fancy shirt collar, not choking him because he’s taller than her by a few inches, but enough for her to show him that if she wants to, she will handle him like she had at the bar.

  “How mad do think she’s going to be?” Cobra asks, her supposed father following closely behind him, both trying to act like they aren’t interested in what she’s doing with her prey.

  And that is exactly what they are, whether they realize it or not, she could have been named Komodo Dragon, once she’s taken a bite out of you, even if you escape the killing blow, she will hunt you down and get what she wants from you, her tenacity knows very little bounds.

  “Honestly, Cobra?” I ask, looking at the man beside him who looks like the woman in question.

  “Speak freely Bones, Alonzo might have tried to kill me, but he’s not going to do anything to get on her bad side now,” he says all confidently, letting me know that Cobra isn’t afraid of Alonzo Conti, not that I expected him to be.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t try to take your balls for this,” he grimaces, understandably, but I continue, “You of all people know how she feels about lies among family, don’t be shocked if she torches your Cobra…” at the mention of his prized car he visibly pales, “I’m both glad you never told me and pissed that you lied to us for years.”

  Before Cobra can say anything, Alonzo scoffs, “Why would he tell you anything of her ties, you’re just a member of their crew,”

  I look down at the man that helped create Priest, genetically at least, and can’t help the small smirk that forms on my face. Lene had taught me about people like him, maybe even knowing one day I would meet the man she was probably referencing. Guys like Alonzo Conti hate when they don’t have power, and in our world, control and knowledge leads to power. When he lost his daughter, he’d lost his sense of control. And with my presence he lacks the knowledge to understand where I fit on his mental chess board.

  “I founded this crew with Cobra and Priest, but I’m also the son Lene always hoped to have. Cobra and Lene raised me in the same little apartment as Priest, her secrets are my secrets,” I say.

  Alonzo looks me up and down, and I’m sure to him, I look like a thug, but then again by some definitions I am one. But I know that’s not all that I am, thanks to the love and lessons Lene and Cobra had given me. But looking at me he sees something he doesn’t like, that’s evident by the badly masked rage that sparks when I say Lene and Cobra’s names. I stand to my full height, taught to never bow my spine before tempted to torment you, and something in his eyes says that in regarding me, Alonzo Conti is tempted to the max.

  He must sense that I won’t be swayed because he jams his finger in my chest, hard enough to bruise had I been of a fair complexion rather than my black one.

  I distantly hear the thud of a fleshy sort, but I am focused on Alonzo because he will not best me.

  “You are not,” Alonzo starts but the sound of a gun’s slide being pulled back and released cuts him off as his eyes swing toward the truck.

  Priest has drawn her gun again, and it’s pointed directly at her father for the second time in an hour and half, but instead of the cool calm from earlier, now her eyes hold a hot flame of rage.

  Priest

  It’s probably not the right reaction to have to someone intimidating Bones. It’s not normal that’s for certain. But something in Alonzo Conti’s eyes seems to scream emotional violence as he jams his finger into Bones’ chest. He’s close to being unhinged, and that violence is directed at Bones, misguidedly so.

  Not only is Bones my crewmember, he’s something so much more than that, and I’ve known probably since my mother bought him into the apartment the first time that I would kill for him, even before I had any inclination toward violence.

  It also pisses me off that Alonzo thinks its okay not to heed my fucking words. The fact that he’s puffing his chest to Bones, a guy who gets hot under the collar at usual male posturing, Alonzo doesn’t know that Bones is holding himself together. The fact that Bones is maintaining and that I know it’s for me has me livid.

  Yes, I know Bones can handle himself. But I don’t have to accept someone connected to me threatening him.

  Maybe it’s because I s
till see visions of the little boy he’d been when I look at him from time to time, his face so weary of the world that a part of me would always want to protect him in some facet. Maybe because my mother loved him as one of her own. Whatever the reason, seeing my biological father’s finger pressing into Bones’ shirt is enough to make my finger itch on the trigger.

  I hop from the back of the truck, sight never leaving Alonzo’s face. He’s trying to school his features but it’s like looking at myself and it doesn’t take me long to read him.

  He should have had Cobra teach him; he’d have been better at disguising it.

  The four enforcers are staring at me in horror before it finally registers with them that I am pointing a loaded weapon at their boss, again. Once that seems to register, they all draw their weapons, but have them pointed at the ground, still unsure about how they are supposed to handle this. It’s honestly rather funny, but unlike my father I can keep my emotions off my face, just like Cobra.

  “You would really point your gun at me?”

  “You don’t know me yet, so I’m going to give you a pass, but I don’t owe you a damn thing, including respect. I already told you that I will live and die by the ones I call family. I didn’t think I’d need to go around and start pointing people out. You have respect in your family because you have proven you are worth respecting, right?” I don’t let him answer, “You still have to prove to me that you are worthy of my respect, something my mother taught me. She also happens to have loved and raised this man and spent a large amount of her time protecting him,”

  Bones huffs, but stays quite, as I continue, “You will not threaten or harm what is mine, no matter who you are, no matter what you seem to have against him. If you have an issue with him then you come to me, because he’s one of mine.”

  Cobra puts his hand on my shoulder, and gently squeezes.

  “His issues aren’t really with Bones,” Cobra starts and for once I don’t give a damn about what Cobra’s trying to tell me.

  I shrug his hand off of my shoulder.

  “I don’t give a fuck if his issue is really with you, the pope, or mother Theresa. He doesn’t get to take it out on Bones. Hell, my mama would be turning in her grave if I didn’t make this point and you know it.”

  I don’t drop my weapon as I look my father steadily in the eye and hold it there. I can see he’s at a loss, and I’m sure I would be too if the roles were reversed, but that’s not how it is, and I don’t really give a damn enough to sympathize with the man.

  “He’s not Lene’s son,” Alonzo says, stubbornly.

  I arch my eyebrow, “Mama upgraded apartments to house him, stripped extra nights and took on a part time job to cover his and I’s clothes every time we had a growth spurt. She fed him and signed all his parental consent forms while we were in school. You can act like you know everything about Lene Seely all you want, but the truth was and always has been in her actions. I’m not saying you aren’t entitled to feel some sort of way about this, but Mama taught Bones and I to drive, how to dance ‘proper bachata and soca’ even though Bones is still stiff when doing soca. She tucked us into bed each night and made breakfast for us every morning Cobra couldn’t. If you loved my mother, you will not lift a hand to Bones again. If you want a relationship with me, you will not lift your hand against those who are mine. I will not have this conversation with you again.”

  This time I re-holster my gun before anyone can say anything to me about threatening the mafioso who happens to be my father. His enforcers look at me, and I can see that Alex’s eyes are wide not in horror but in pride.

  I look at my father, see that for a man who just had a gun in his face he’s far too calm, and sure he could be used it, but something has me narrowing my eyebrows.

  “Are you fucking shitting me,” I can’t help but mutter before I turn and glare at Cobra, “This is the fucked-up world you grew up in isn’t it? Cause if it is it’s no fucking wonder, you’re a goddamn nutcase, this would drive me insane.”

  Cobra large hand claps my back, but it’s his face the shines with parental pride.

  “Welcome to the life Priest, welcome to the life,” he laughs, but it turns rather bitter for the man who usually shuffles his emotions to be sorted through at the end of the day.

  “Why do you think I walked away from the family? It wasn’t because I hated the violence or the politics, it’s the fucking fact that they constantly try to manipulate you when you are their own blood, have bled for them, have killed for them. If you can’t back what you say you are useless, I get that, but to have to constantly be tested,” Cobra is barely keeping the rage and betrayal from his voice, “It gets old real fucking fast, especially when you have a personality like mine.”

  I shrug off his hand for the second time in my life, but the accompanying eye roll softens the action. I look at the enforcers and then Bones.

  “Wait, this is,” Bones starts, but I cut him off.

  “A goddamn test,” I say with a shake of my head.

  “Like a gun in the face the first time wasn’t proof that I am no stranger to violence,” I rant, “It’s literally the one thing I am known for! There are fucking newspaper articles dedicated to the fucked up shit I've done to protect members of the crew, hell even the things I’ve done for fucking strangers,” I take a breath before the anger builds into a full rage, and look at Bones in an attempt to center myself a bit, “ The real question, is what wouldn’t I do for you and Cobra?”

  That thought sits in the air for a moment, Alonzo seeming to look at me with confusion, but what the hell he has to be confused about is lost on me. Suit One grunts from behind me, reminding me there are other things at hand to deal with.

  “Bones, Cobra...get the hell out of my 'Office',” I can’t help but grumble, “I have work to do.”

  “Ya think they’ll be able to stomach your methods?” Bones asks as Cobra heads out of the warehouse, calling Rosary behind him. My dog loves me, but she doesn’t need to see me working.

  I am vicious, even Bones had to adjust to the violent parts of me after Mom’s death. I don’t enjoy it in a sociopathic or psychotic sense, honestly. I tend to go to a quite space in my head that seems to darken everything around me except the knowledge that I have a task to do.

  It’s not like a switch or any easy transition from the girl who laughs and loves to some unfeeling beast, no it’s much more complicated than that. It’s the numbing of Novocain over my whole being, starting slowly at my heart and spreading outward to numb the nerves, the ability to care and feel.

  Bones has seen me take days to grow past the numbness, though nothing compares to how detached I was after the strip club. That had been months of not tasting, not feeling the world around me.

  Bones looks at the four of them.

  “I’ll bet maybe one of them can handle it,” I say, though I’m actually not that confident in any of them. I know they are mafia; I know they’ve seen some shit in their time, but don’t usually shy away from things the average male would never think to do to another man. Like electrocuting testicles, for instance.

  “We’ll see,” He says, the sarcasm and doubt coloring his tone.

  Tony

  While I might be all laughter and jokes, there is nothing for me to joke about when it comes to the change that Priest undergoes to be the woman her crew has made of her. The woman her crew needs her to be.

  She was right, the other three enforcers can’t stomach the violence Priest deals in, even Alonzo leaves the warehouse, looking a bit pale.

  I remain, because I find nothing hotter than a girl doling out violence, but then again, I was the family’s hatchetman before I grew into the role of captain. Now, much like the other enforcers, I spend more time managing people than handing out unadulterated violence…

  The good old days.

  Alonzo’s daughter has shut off her emotions in a way that leaves her blank and impossible to read and briefly, I’m jealous. She had Cobra, one of the best in
the business, to teach her to be everything I have never been able to perfect. I’m good, but she’s like a shell, the best I get is seeming like a sociopath, which all the psychologist have agreed, I am not.

  The remaining Russo man starts spilling his guts after seeing her with the first henchman, Vin still passed out from the pain of her marking. It’s actually quite comical how quickly and easily the Russo man was to start singing.

  Not that I blame them. If I were in their shoes, I’d be spilling my guts too. Who wants to have their testes electrocuted?

  “Giaimo sent us in, told us to follow Vin’s instructions but to make sure that we brought back the lost Conti girl,” one of the goons says in that pleading tone every man without honor seems to take on when faced with a true pain. The Russo family never did know how to find loyal people.

  Priest looks at the tools at her disposal, like she couldn’t care less what the goon has to say and is quiet for a moment. Before her are a multitude of scalpels, a handful of tactical knives, a cattle prod, and some things even I’m not completely sure of their purpose.

  “And if you couldn’t bring me back, what were you supposed to do?” she asks, her tone bored.

  I’m leaning with my back against the wall of the warehouse, watching silently, because like a professional, I know this isn’t my place to step in. Not that she even needs me to.

  “Well, um, like I said, we weren’t supposed to come back without you,” Priest cuts him off with the sound of her hands smacking the little worktable she has, making the knives and other utensils jump.

  “Your friend pointing a gun at my chest says a whole different story, so I advise you to rethinking that answer.”

  The man gulps, hell I gulp, though I’m sure it’s for different reason. He’s probably scared shitless by this woman. I find her alluring as all hell with that toffee skin, blond hair and penetrating eyes. She’s not afraid to get her hands bloody! A part of me just wants to get on one knee and ask for her bloody hand in marriage.