Page 143 of Always: A Legacy Novel

“At least you left the garage door closed this time,” Calisto said.

Cross had heard his step-father’s approach, but continued his work cleaning the assault rifle he had dismantled on the metal table. “No need to scare the neighbors.”

Again.

“Wolf give you that?”

“More like I took it after he made a deal on a couple dozen of them.”

Calisto came closer, admiring the gun before he said, “Make sure you lock it up after you’re done. We don’t need anyone accidentally stumbling on it or something.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Your interest in this has never really gone away, has it?”

Cross glanced at his step-father, but quickly went back to his work. “Guns? No, not really.”

Calisto picked up the large clip, and flipped it over in his palm. “Guns is a very small part of our particular side of business, Cross. We’re not the family making money on illegal gun sales in this country. We keep a supply for our territory to sell, but that’s really it.”

“It could be a bigger part, if you made the effort.”

“We do quite well in our syndicate, focusing on what we do.”

Cross shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“You know you can’t focus on dealing or running guns, and also la famiglia, right? It’s impossible when it would mean pulling your attention in two entirely different directions.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before. And Wolf. Zeke, too.”

And every other made man who picked up on Cross’s interest for gunrunning and arms dealing.

Yet, Cross kept wondering …

“I don’t care what you do, Cross. You know that, son, don’t you? You can work with this,” Calisto said, waving a hand at the dismantled gun. “Or, you can keep mentoring under Wolf for our side of things. It’s always been your choice, regardless of what anyone else says. They’re just noise in the background.”

“Loud noise,” Cross muttered under his breath.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Cross wiped down the long barrel, wanting to change the subject. “It’s nothing, Papa.”

“Men say things to you? Famiglia men?”

They had been saying things to him his whole life.

Mostly when Calisto’s back was turned.

“Like what?” Calisto demanded when Cross stayed quiet.

“Just drop it. It’s not important.”

“It is to me if someone is pressuring—”

Cross scoffed. “What, like peer pressure, but for mafia and criminals? Do we have something less juvenile to call it?”

Calisto sighed heavily. “Persuading? Influencing?”

Those were slightly better.