Page 66 of Effortless

“Maybe you’re in need of another break, man,” Cross said, never looking up from his work.

“Hey, if I don’t have the time to head out on a run with you, then I don’t have time to take a break to do something else.”

Cross shrugged. “Make time.”

Easier said than done.

So was his life.

“Tommaso. I heard you were in this part of the city.”

Tom spun around at the sound of his father’s voice. Across the warehouse, Tommas headed in Tom’s direction. At his father’s sides, the man’s right and left hands flanked him. Damian Rossi, the underboss for the Outfit, and Theo, the front boss and the man who controlled the gunrunning portion of the business.

He shot Theo a look, knowing that was likely how his father found out he was here. After all, Theo had been at the warehouse earlier when Tom first arrived, but left shortly after saying he had business to handle.

Right.

Business.

“Had to call him, huh?” Tom asked Theo.

“Be nice,” his uncle, Damian, said.

Technically, Damian was a cousin, but Tom had grown up knowing the man as an uncle. Same with Theo, really. All of them—and even Adriano—were terribly close friends. It made it very difficult for Tom to do anything without one of them telling the other, and then the information almost always made it back to his father somehow.

“How’s this run looking, Cross?” Tommas asked.

As usual, Cross was focused on his work. He answered, of course, but didn’t look away from the maps. “It’s looking fine, Tommas. Nothing to worry about.”

“Good, good.” Tommas’s gaze turned on Tom. “I thought you had work to do on your side of the city today?”

“Someone needed an extra pair of hands.”

Damian strolled past Tom, and clapped him on the shoulder. He didn’t say anything, though.

“As long as the extra pair of hands is all he needed,” Tommas said.

“I could use a partner on the run,” Cross said.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Theo replied. “You rarely use partners now.”

Cross looked up from his work, and his gaze darted between Tom and the other men. “It’s good for Tom to keep up on his skills, that’s all. Wouldn’t want him getting rusty when he might need to be your backup someday, right?”

“Tommaso doesn’t run our guns,” his father said. “You do, Cross. Concern yourself with that at the moment.”

“I am, but I’m just saying—”

“Either way,” Tommas cut in, making sure his voice was heard, “Tommaso will not be the one going on the run. I’m the only one who gets to make the choice.”

Tom shot his father a look. “I wasn’t going on the run to begin with.”

“Had to make sure.”

“Of course you did,” Tom muttered, “because apparently my word means fuck all.”

Frustration and irritation ran rampant through Tom, but he shoved it back down. He knew why his father was doing this, but that didn’t mean he particularly fucking liked it. He didn’t need a reminder about who was in charge.

Tommas frowned. “I didn’t say your word—”