On The Trail

Tommaso

I pulled my coat a little tighter around myself to ward off the early spring chill wafting in through the open bay door of my main warehouse and watched my men load wooden crates of guns onto the back of an eighteen-wheeler. For the first time since I’d returned from Egypt, I was happy with the number of subordinates I was sure were loyal to me. Carp, Stan, and I had been working hard on weeding out the motherfuckers who’d turn a second time, and damn near everyone nodded at me when they noticed me standing against a shelf now.

Not that I’d shown up for the nods. No, I’d dragged myself out of bed in the middle of the goddamn night because Tony was doing another fucking pickup. And because, in the handful of weeks since Paige drunkenly kissed me, any and all nighttime visits had stopped. Part of me missed it. Another part of me was glad my own willpower wasn’t being tested like that. I couldn’t stop dreaming about the taste of her lips.

Tony wandered out of the cab of the truck