Page 19 of Pretty Lies

Cory, with his blue.

“Your father is the underboss—your second cousin is the boss. You’ve mentored under me. Where did you think you were going when you joined the family? Did you think we’d place you boys where you couldn’t control?”

Theo resumed his previous position in the passenger seat but now pulled out his black leather driving gloves because, in one short block, they had work to do. “I wasn’t more than a couple of years older than you or so when I came into this position—unusual to be that young, but the circumstances of the Outfit then were a lot different than it is now. We did what we had to do for it to be ours. You’ve got a while more to go, though. I happen to like what I do. Either way, it will be you. And you will be fine.”

Cory focused on the road.

His uncle reached between the front seats to offer an open-gloved hand to the Rottie sitting in the back. Cory’s dog, Mace. He was being an extra good boy because it wasn’t very often he got to drive around the city with his master all day while he worked.

Mostly because if he did attack, one couldn’t get him off. A lot of the time, Mace didn’t like to wait for the order. He was still learning.

The pup sniffed, then licked, Theo’s open palm.

“You gonna be loud today?” his uncle asked his dog.

The dog chuffed.

“Big and scary boy, Mace, yeah, I know.”

The almost babyish tone his uncle took on had Cory suppressing a grin. Dogs and kids, man. Those were the only thing that could turn his uncle into a teddy bear, but not very many people knew the secret trick.

“Shit, I wasn’t even gonna let him out of the car for this one,” Cory grumbled. “I didn’t bring his leash and you know he’ll act—”

“He’s only a year old. He’s still a baby,” Theo cooed to the pup, scratching Mace’s ear with his gloved finger. “Aren’t you? Yeah, you’re just a baby.”

“He’s eighty-five pounds of muscle. He eats two bowls of food a day. I don’t think we can call that a baby.”

“Well, he is. As for making him mind, it’s all in the tone, Cory.”

He did mind. Quite well. Just sometimes he liked to do what he wanted to do. A lot like Cory.

“Right, well … check it out. You were right; we didn’t even have to go looking for the stupid fucks.”

Theo faced forward in his seat as Cory slowed the Mustang coming up along a popular block corner where a few small-time dealers liked to chill on the street in between drops. Problem was, two of those dealers had an issue while dealing a little too close to a warehouse where the Outfit’s stash of guns that they sold on the illegal market had been stored. There’d been cops up and down the row of industrial buildings for days, making any Outfit business impossible.

As for his uncle?

And why Cory was there?

Just to make a point.

Anybody else doing business in the city—whether with the Outfit or not—needed to make sure they didn’t bring any problems to the mob. It was a good lesson to learn.

Cory put the car into park on the side of the street as the guys lingering on the corner nodded at the black Mustang, and its illegally tinted windows. How many fines was he up to for that now? Four? Theo stepped out of the car before Cory had even tossed off his seatbelt. He got out of his side at the time his uncle pulled a bat from the backseat and let Mace out.

Rounding the back of the car with a whistle falling on his lips while he shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, Cory had Mace hanging back closer to him. He leaned against the trunk of the Mustang, letting his uncle do what he had to do—if he needed to step in, then he would.

Twenty feet away, one of the dealers took a step toward Theo who was making his way to a red beamer—the guy’s car that had caused the problem.

“Hey!” the dealer shouted. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Another guy stepped toward Cory.

He ticked his chin up at the man and grinned, arching a brow. Mace—all eight-five-fucking-pounds of him stood just two feet ahead of Cory with teeth bared.

“Try it, yeah?” Cory called.

The first smash of glass had the car’s alarm going off when Theo shoved the handle of the bat through the back window.