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“It’s good advice.”

I snorted. “Yeah, it is, but he did that in front of every kid out there. I had to fight half of them before the year was over just to get them to stop making jokes behind my back.”

“Must’ve been hard, growing up with a dad like that.”

I cocked my head and shrugged. “Maybe,” I said. “There were perks too, of course. People tend to remember the hard parts of their childhood.”

“I know what you mean,” she said.

“Yeah, you got a story there?”

“Not really.” A secretive little smile that only made me want to unwrap her even more. “I had a nice childhood. Loving parents. Doting, really.”

“I bet.” I gestured at the restaurant. “Let’s eat here, shall we?”

She shrugged and followed me to the door. Before I could grab the handle and pull it open, a motorcycle came screaming down the road, its engine spitting and barking. It pulled up to the curb, black and silver chrome. The guy riding it climbed off, but didn’t kill the engine, just left it running.

He had a shock of shaggy black hair, wore a dark, beat-up leather jacket over black baggy jeans and brown work boots. His skin was light tan and his eyes were a deep, dark brown. He stared at me with those dark eyes, and I noticed his nose was crooked, just a little bit, as he reached into his jacket.

I reached behind me, gripped the butt of my gun. I was about to draw it, heart racing, a step too slow, when the guy pulled out a box.

I held the gun but didn’t pull. He approached me and I noticed that he looked pale and there was a bead of sweat on his forehead.

“Vincent Leone?” he asked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I said.

Mona shifted close to me. I noticed her staring at my hand underneath my jacket, the one that gripped my Glock, but I didn’t let it go.

He held out the box. “From my boss. For you.”

I reached out with my free hand and took it. He nodded, turned, ran to his bike, jumped on, and sped off.

I stood there, dumbfounded. I looked at the box and finally relaxed enough to release the grip of my pistol. People were staring, and I could see more than a few concerned faces.

I turned away from them and stared at the box in my hands. It was black, about the size of a shoebox. There were no markings, but it looked beat-up and dented, like it’d been used before. The lid fit loose and something inside shifted around.

I went to take off the lid, but Mona put a hand on top of mine.

“Wait,” she said. “Wait, hold on. That could be… that could be a bomb or something.”

I shook my head. “If someone wanted me dead, they would’ve used guns,” I said. “That guy had the drop on me.”

She stared at me, eyes wide with fear.

I stared at the box and lifted the lid.

Mona sucked in a sharp breath and staggered away from me. I stared down at the skeleton of a snake, the spine long and curved, the rib bones sprouting out like so many tiny legs. It was bleached white, perfectly white, and the skull was intact, its jaw hanging open like it was about to strike just before it died and was stripped of flesh.

Beneath the skeleton was a note.

I gingerly pushed the skeleton aside and picked up the note.

Three words were scrawled in black marker. They were shaky, the handwriting awful.

Join and die.

“Vince,” Mona said. “What the hell is that?”

I dropped the note back inside and closed the lid. I stared at the box for a few seconds as my heart slowed back to normal. I looked at Mona and shook my head.

“I have to get going,” I said.

“What?” she asked. “Vince, what’s going on?”

“I need to go talk to my father,” I said. “You can stay and have dinner. I’ll send one of my guys to check on you.”

“No way,” she said as I turned and headed back to my car. “Vince, hold on.”

She grabbed for my arm but I pulled away. I heard her heels clacking on the pavement but she was so far from my mind at that moment.

I was trying to wrap my head around what I’d just been given.

“Vince,” she hissed in my ear and grabbed my arm again.

I stopped and faced her. I stared into her pretty eyes, glanced at her pretty lips.

She had no clue what she’d just stumbled into.

“This box is a warning,” I said. “And not the kind of warning I can ignore.”

“What do you mean? What the hell does that mean?” She shook her head and I could tell the fear was starting to get to her.

“Come on,” I said. “I’ll explain in the car.”

I turned and started walking again. She didn’t follow, not right away. But as I got a few yards away, I heard her heels clacking again as she raced to keep up.

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