AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“A friend.”
“He kissed you,” Julian said, feeling something flare within him. He had been learning to identify his emotions recently. The boring woman his mother took him to see every week said it would help him develop. Julian wasn’t sure what he was supposed to developinto. And so far, the only emotion he could identify with regular success was the one he felt now.
Anger.
“You’re lying, Mummy,” he said coldly, but his mother only laughed a little louder, and the glowing coal in his chest burned hotter.
He didn’t like the idea of his mother with that man. Whoever he was, he’d left his smell all over her: leather, old books, cloying cologne. Worst of all was the cheap hair wax, the scent filling up Julian’s nose as his mother hugged him again.
But she went still at the sound of footsteps approaching. “Go,” she told him, pushing him away gently. “Go back to the house, little golden one. I’ll come and get you soon. We’re going to do nothing but have fun and enjoy ourselves for the rest of our lives back in England—I promise.”
Julian ran. But only a little way, and then he retraced his steps.
He was curious.
And when he was curious, there was only one thing he could do: give in and investigate.
So he crept back to the hedge maze, where he saw a man in a navy suit and crisp white shirt grab his mother by the hair and push her face into the water.
He held her there until she stopped struggling.
CHAPTER1
JULIAN
The Los Angeleshaze is yellow again tonight, a shroud rising over the dark city. There’s a faint stench of ash and incinerated plastics in the air along with the usual hot asphalt, gasoline, the dank sea of the docks, and the sharp, metallic perfume of spilled blood.
Below me, I watch as a gunfight rages.
I sit on one of the massive cranes at the port, watching through compact binoculars as the Castellani Family members—well outnumbered—return fire with fierce determination. Bullets zing like angry wasps, pinging off of metal objects, loud enough for me to hear in the still night air, even from all the way up here.
From this high, all those men are just little ants zooming around in crazy-eights, and if I had a rifle with me, all those irritating Bernardis would have no chance.Thisis where Johnny “Jack” Jacopo should be—up here, picking them off, instead of running around down there on the ground, worrying about a crew that’s supposed to be led by Silvano Rizzo, not Jack. Where Rizzo is, I’m not sure. Hiding, probably. Rizzo has a limited amount of empathy for the men who serve under him.
Jack, on the other hand, istoofond of our Family members, and that’s a problem. Things have gone sideways down there, and instead of pausing to consider a more strategic option, he’s run right into the fray with them.
Sure, taking the time to make his way up to the higher ground would have cost a few soldiers. But they knew what they signed up for when they joined the Family.
Out of nowhere, a giant truck rolls through the docks with its horn blaring and headlights blinding. The Bernardis scramble to try to stop it, but before they can fire off a single shot, there’s a loud explosion and smoke fills the air.
A fresh crew—Jack’s crew, I think—springs out of the truck, right in the middle of the enemy, all ready for battle. The Bernardis fall back, scattering in confusion.
Well, well. I underestimated Jack.
I do hope he’s factored in the law, though. From this high up, it’s easy to see their approach, the flashing lights making their way to the docks. Dock security has already been completely overrun, and I know the armored vehicles approaching won’t contain the usual loud-voiced power-trippers that usually show up as first responders.
These are specialized forces.
I can’t help smiling as I watch the vehicles draw nearer. This will be quite the finale.
But something niggles at me, drawing my attention away from the entertainment. I’m not alone—or at least, not unnoticed.
Someone is watching me as closely as I’m watching the play unfold on the stage beneath me.
I duck down behind one of the beams of the crane. I’ve felt someone shadowing me for at least two weeks now, and I went dark a few days back to see if I could throw them. It hasn’t worked. They’re still glue.
I consider my options. There are only two at the moment: leave or stay. If I leave, get down there on the ground, I’ll get caught up in the fracas—and I’m not supposed to be here at all.
Sandro, my dear big brother, and now head of the Family, has been very clear about that.Stay out of business unless I direct you into it. He still doesn’t trust me, so it’s a smart play, but it does make for some unfortunate circumstances occasionally.
