Page 80 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Cross recognized a couple of the guys.

Two were guys that kept following him around the city as he worked. Two others he knew to be enforcers for Marcello Capos.

This was not good.

Still, Cross held his ground. He didn’t reach for the handle on the passenger side door, but instead, turned to the biggest of the four.

“Jack, right?” Cross asked.

“You got it, Donati.”

Cross nodded. “Yeah, a bitch enforcer for one of Dante’s men. What the fuck do you want?”

“Heard you came up on the boss a while back,” one of the men said.

“Somebody thinks you should answer for that,” said another.

Cross put his back to his Porsche. He sure as fuck wasn’t turning his back to any of these idiots. “Is that so? And who would that be?”

Jack smiled. “Any man worth his weight on our side of town.”

“Well, fuck your side of town,” Cross shot back, “because this side is mine.”

“Nobody’s here.”

“You keep thinking that, dumbass.”

The man with the bat swung, and broke the taillight out of the driver’s side. Cross sighed as the man smiled.

“Whoops.”

“You touch my car with that bat again, and I’m going to see how good your gag reflex is when I shove it down your fucking throat,” Cross warned.

“Those are big words for a man with no—”

Cross pulled his Eagle out from the holster at his back. He pointed it right at Jack’s head. “Tell him to swing that bat again. I fucking dare you.”

Two of the other men pulled guns on Cross.

He didn’t lower his even a fraction of a millimeter.

“Now look at this stupid shit,” Cross said. “Out in the middle of a city street, in fucking daylight, pointing guns at each other like idiots. One of you gets me locked up for this stupid shit, and I will burn your houses down after I lock your asses inside. Try me.”

He did not need a charge. Not when he regularly crossed borders. Sure, Cross used fake IDs, passports, and all that, but he sometimes used his real one, too.

“Something wrong, principe?”

The question was called from across the street. Cross found Rick and James standing there. Despite being chastised like misbehaving children only minutes ago by Cross, they stood ready to come to his aid should he need it. Like proper made men. That was the only reason Cross didn’t fix their nonsense by killing them. They were good made men at the end of the day.

“See,” Cross told Jack, “you were mistaken in assuming I go anywhere without someone nearby. I assume that’s a regular thing for you—being wrong, I mean. Consider this a pass. You come up on me again, and I will nail your ass to a wall before I gut you. Make sure you let Dante Marcello know I’ve heard his warnings loud and clear, and I don’t give a single fuck. I’m doing just fine, and he definitely wants me to stay that way. He starts pissing me off, or you assholes try more of this shit, and this city is going to run red in the streets. Got it?”

Jack glared.

Cross cocked the hammer back on the Eagle. “Got it?”

Jack nodded at the other guys, and his men slowly started to back away. Only once they were far down the street did Cross finally lower his gun from Jack.

Then, Cross rattled off his Manhattan address before saying, “That’s where you’ll find me. Make sure your little buddy drops off enough cash to replace my taillight, or I’ll take it in blood.”