A bit of dark humor, I like it.
“I did, actually.” Josey reaches forward and slides a cup from the holder, popping the top and taking a sip. He winces. “Shit, I must have got one of yours.” He pushes the thing toward me and takes another, making sure to check the lids this time. He settles into a free spot and throws his arm around the back.
Luciano clears his throat. “Coffee.” He gives one to Claire and takes one for himself. He points to the paper bag. “Donuts.”
Claire slides away from me and returns with a stack of napkins.
Josey is the first to grab one, clearly being the ice breaker of our awkward group.
It’s been less than twenty-four hours and I have no idea how to act around this man who happens to be my father. Who is also some kind of criminal and happens to be related to the man who would stop at nothing to end my life.
Luciano starts. “I have eyes all over the city. Franklin won’t get in without me knowing. For now, we’re in the clear, but that doesn’t mean his mercenaries aren’t already in place. We have to be vigilant.” He turns to Claire. “After what happened to you, it’s best to stay put for now. This is war, and we can’t afford to make any mistakes.”
Josey wipes his face and leans forward. “Listen, this is great, and I’m totally on board with whatever is about to happen, but will someone clue me in on what the fuck this is?” He points between me and Luciano. “When did you two become best buds?”
I raise my hand to my hair, that stupid habit of mine. I catch Luciano doing the same damn thing out of the corner of my eye.
“Theo—excuse me—Johnny, is my son,” Luciano says matter-of-factly.
Josey’s brown eyes go wide, and he nearly spits out his coffee. “What?”
“It’s true,” Claire assures him.
“Wait?” Confusion settles over Josey. “Does that mean…?”
Luciano lets out an exasperated breath. “You’re cousins, yes. Now, can we get back to business?”
“Holy shit, man.” Josey hops up from his seat and grabs my arm, pulling me into a breath-squeezing hug. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
“The feeling is mutual.” I slap his back, the same thought running through my head. I’ve always had this weird trust in Josey, despite not really knowing why. He’s always been nice to me, and we’ve had this sort of unspoken comradery.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, which is cause for alarm considering the only person who talks to me on a daily basis is in this very room.
I pull it out, the text from my contact back home sending my heart rate a bit higher.
“He’s on his way,” I say to anyone who might be listening.
“How do you know?” Luciano stares up at me.
“I have a reliable source.” I pause and add, “He left an hour ago.”
Luciano’s gaze seems to dart away, like he’s lost in thought. “He’s on a private jet. Estimated four hours travel time, giving us three until he arrives. If I’m right, he’s flying into a small airport right outside my jurisdiction. I’ll make a few calls to see if I can get exact details on tracking. If we’re going to do this, we’ll have to attack the second he lands.”
“Isn’t that against your agreement?” Josey breaks through Luciano’s planning.
“He already broke it when he tried to kill my son.”
A chill goes up my back. I don’t know if it’s the usage of the word, or the sheer determination on Luciano’s face to end Franklin. He might be doing this for his own reasons, but the fact that he wants him dead almost as much as I do forms a strange bond between us.
It may be temporary, but it’s there, nonetheless.
“What do we do?” Claire readies herself next to me. Her face is swollen and bruised, and I’m sure causing her a great deal of pain. Still, she puts that all aside to prepare herself for battle against the man who keeps trying to ruin us.
Luciano nods at Josey, signaling him to open up the bulky black bag.
With a hint of excitement about him, Josey complies, unzipping it and pulling out a shotgun onto our living room table and reaches in for another. A pistol this time, with a tactical-looking scope secured to the top. Then, two smaller revolvers. He places them all gently side by side and keeps going back for more.
“Dibs on this one,” he says as he lugs out an AR-15.