Page 73 of Pretty Lies

THIRTEEN

TWO BLACK CARS racing down a street with dark windows wouldn’t be unusual in Chicago at times. Except Cory had noticed how quiet the row of new warehouses had been that morning and the streets surrounding them. The new addition to the shipping district was still selling properties—that’s how fresh the section was. Add in what he knew about J Costello’s business here for an Outfit Capo, and those black cars put him on edge instantly.

The guys J had working here wouldn’t cause a scene—certainly not something like acting foolishly in their vehicles. It would draw attention to who, and possibly what, was going down inside the warehouse. Nobody needed or wanted that.

“J!” Cory called when he headed back inside the warehouse through the side exit door.

The short hallway leading out to the main floor of the building had boxes piled high on either side. A lot like the mess between the parked cars where the crew had been readying to hide illegal prescription drugs inside the steering wheels. He imagined some of the boxes had shit inside—who knew what because it really didn’t matter. Some of the boxes were probably full of nothing but packing peanuts and whatever other garbage could be thrown in. That way if anyone got inside and thought to open a box, they wouldn’t find much.

Cory had done things like this before. He knew how it worked.

Unfortunately, the mess made it difficult to see where J was because he wasn’t inside the office when Cory passed it by. Della was close on his heels as he came to the end of the hallway. Over the piles of boxes and cars, he found J.

Talking with Jennika across the warehouse right in front of the bay doors. Had he not heard those cars? Because he was opening the fucking bay doors.

“J!” Cory shouted, “Keep them closed!”

It was too late.

Even Cory knew it.

Two of the three warehouse’s bay doors were already halfway opened. When bad shit went down, the same things always happened for Cory. His chest became tight. The air around him turned thinner and colder. Time slowed.

That was before his gut dropped. Like his heart. It was as though he could watch everything happen in excruciatingly clear detail. Not that he wanted to, but adrenaline just didn’t give him a choice.

J turned to give Cory a look, finally taking his attention away from whatever conversation he’d been having with Jennika. A conversation that hadn’t seemed entirely happy considering the two had been sporting expressions that warned back off.

“What—”

J didn’t even get to finish his sentence.

Della’s scream of her brother’s name from behind Cory when he threw his arm up to stop her from going out of the hallway hurt his eardrums. He’d hear that for days. That he knew for sure.

Not that any of it did any good.

Jennika looked out through the opened bay door, horrified when two black cars roared to a stop. Windows rolled down on the cars; long, black barrels sticking out before light exploded, and so did the sound of gunfire. J was still looking Cory’s way, though.

He didn’t even see it coming.

Jennika hit the floor the second the shooting started.

Della screamed again.

“J! Joel!”

She tried to fight past Cory, but the moment he understood what was happening, he stopped watching. He spun around while the bullets still flew, slamming into boxes and cars and the beams, to shove her back down the hallway.

She looked a mess.

Crying already.

Her fists came at him.

She landed more than one.

“Get my brother—help my brother!”

He didn’t want to tell her.