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On the way to the SUV, Theo regaled Mo with the facts he’d learned from his museum trip. Josiah walked next to Giorgio, his attention not so much as budging from the page, but he didn’t need to look up walking next to Giorgio Pozza.
“How’d they fit a ship that big inside a building?” Mo asked, Theo’s small hand lodged in hers.
“This is the bestest part, Auntie Mo.” His eyes opened wide. “They built itaroundthe ship. The lady at the museum told us that.”
“That’s so awesome.”
“You want to come wiff me next time?”
She squeezed his hand. “I’d love to, puka.”
A figure in the distance, partially hidden behind the building, caught her eye. Underneath the outdoor lights, she made out the shadow of a large male frame.
“You see him, Gio?”
“Da.”
Theo sniffled, and the front of his little jeans was suddenly darker than they’d been seconds ago.
“Sweetheart,” she crouched in front of him, “what’s wrong?”
Theo didn’t respond.
She looked up at Giorgio, whose attention was fixed on where she’d seen the man. She made sure Josiah was still engrossed in his book and covered Theo’s ears.
“Gio?”
He glanced at her.
“Kill him.”
Giorgio started off. “Da.”
* * *
Giorgio brandished a Bowie knife.
So,thiswas Mr. Veeny.
The guys had told him that if he ever encountered the piece of shit, the agreement was not to kill him for whatever reason.
Tonotkill him.
To kill him.
Lavigne opened his mouth as if to say something, but Giorgio shoved a fist into his face, forcing him to stumble backward.
Lavigne then whipped out a blade of his own, but Giorgio rushed forward and lodged the Bowie through Lavigne’s shoulder, narrowly “missing” the mudak’s neck.
Long streams of French spurted from Lavigne’s mouth. Sweat sprung on his pale skin, darkened by streaks of what looked like dirt and blood. The mudak squinted and reached for the knife, but Giorgio pulled it out and stepped back.
Blood dripped from the blade’s tip onto the asphalt. Hopefully, if someone discovered it, it would force the store to carry more substantial blades. What was the point of a knife if it couldn’t pierce flesh?
He flicked his wrist to discard the droplets, regretting that he hadn’t grabbed his Ka-Bar from the trunk of the Cayenne. Nobody knew how he got his hands on the knife, and it was a funny story.
Something crackled behind him.
He used the sound to time this second person’s movement. When they were close, he ducked away from a chokehold, turned, and lodged the knife’s tip into the person’s abdomen. He brandished another blade, a spear point, and pierced the person’s neck.
