Page 34 of Pretty Lies

“Priorities, yeah?” When a man wanted to be made, his priorities changed first. Then, Cory said, “I get it. We’ll have to figure something out. Better question is, what brings you around here this early?”

That had the man’s gaze traveling back to the townhouse and the stone stairs hugged by iron railings on either side that led to the front door. “Been getting up an hour earlier just to be able to get over here and check out her place every morning since the attack. Felt like a shit that night—I wanted to stay in the club, deal with the shit in there because of the gang and figured the guy who took her home would be okay because I knew him. He was okay—wasn’t his fault, he did what I told him. Still thought it might have gone down differently had I been here, though.”

Cory considered that. “The person was inside the townhouse, right? Broke in?”

“Yeah, my guy had just started to pull away.”

“You usually walk her to her door?”

“Well, no, but—”

“So, it would have been the same. Don’t keep replaying it, J. That fucks you up.”

Della’s brother let out a hard breath. “Yeah, I know.”

“And I’m here, now. Kind of my job to do this and all.”

J grinned. “I hear you.”

Cory held out a fist, and J bumped it with his own.

All was good.

It usually was in Cory’s world.

Cory tipped his head J’s way, asking, “So, are we thinking the attack was related to the gang?”

“We’re looking at business angles, too.”

“The gang was there at the club where she was, right? Why was that, anyway?”

J cleared his throat. “Just details—Dad isn’t sharing, no offense.”

All right.

He’d already been told his job wasn’t to handle the issue unless ordered otherwise; his duty was to keep Della out of any trouble.

“Who are you working for lately?”

J laughed darkly. “Adriano Conti, man. And when they say he can break anybody in, they aren’t fucking lying. I’ve been doing work for Georgie, too, though.”

Yeah, Cory knew it.

Every Capo in the Outfit had their ways. A man had to go through all of them on his way to being made. The mafia and its semantics. Although really, it just meant when one man stood up for another to nominate for their in to the family, everybody stood up for him at the same time. Things had changed over the years from how it used to be. Cory’s father had told him more than once the changes had been for the better.

“Better get going,” Cory said. “I heard he doesn’t like people to be late.”

“Guess so. Update me on her, okay?”

Cory nodded. “Will do.”

•••

By the time Della did finally stroll out of her townhouse—her brother was wrong, it ended up being closer to ten—Cory had a warm cup of to-go coffee heating his palm that he sipped. Another coffee, triple sugar and cream because most people liked it sweet, he thought, waited on the hood of the car for Della, if she wanted it.

He’d had the coffee delivered by a service. The guy that dropped it off to Cory on the side of the street got a chuckle out of the fact that in the notes for the delivery, it had been written to give to the guy wearing a leather jacket on the street at … The address had been listed below.

It was too early.