Page 22 of Effortless

“Say it again,” Tom urged. “Make my fucking day.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, Chicago? You can’t—”

“My club,” Zeke said.

“My sister,” Cross added. “Pretty sure you know better than to put Camilla’s name in your mouth with that kind of garbage, Dane.”

“And since I don’t know who the fuck you are,” Tom put in, “I can safely guess you’re not a made man, you don’t mean shit, and you can be replaced.”

“Yes, he can,” Cross said.

Tom heard the permission in his friend’s words. He took it. A slight adjustment to his aim, and he took a second shot. This time, the bullet plugged into Dane’s forehead, and made the back of his skull crack morbidly against the wall.

Blood splattered.

Papers shuffled.

Zeke sighed at the mess.

“I was looking for a reason to get rid of that cocksucker,” Cross mused as he peered over the dead man. “Made it easy on me, really.”

“He deserved it.” Tom went back to his bagel because it was starting to cool, and he liked it hot. A little bit of blood didn’t bother him. “Want me to clean that up?”

“Well … I got somebody who’ll do it,” Zeke muttered. “I guess.”

“Does your sister get that kind of shit from guys often?”

Cross sucked air through his teeth. “What do you think?”

“I think my father always told me to remember that anything a man can do, a woman can do it better, and only a weak man would insult her for it. Because weak men don’t know how to deal with women who are not looking for a man’s approval or opinion.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of weak men in this city, Tommaso.”

He understood what his friend was saying well enough.

“Good thing there’s a few of the good ones left to look out for her, I suppose.” He took a sip of the coffee. “Where’s your father going to be today?”

“Why?”

“Thought I should pay him a visit, maybe.”

Cross arched a brow, repeating, “Why?”

“Camilla.”

His friend finally seemed to understand.

“One of his restaurants, likely. There’s one in particular he likes to work out of.” Cross rattled off the address before adding, “I already know what he’s going to tell you, but it’s not him you need to worry about.”

“What?”

“My sister, Tom. She doesn’t usually do second dates, that’s all.”

Tom shrugged. “I have a feeling I’d really fucking regret it if I didn’t at least try.”

“Your heart, I guess,” Cross replied.

He didn’t even need to ask what his friend meant; he already knew.