Page 44 of Savage Lover

“Good one,” he says.

“Here’s what you need to understand,” I tell him. “I was a loser in high school. I know these people because we all grew up in Old Town. We’ve lived in the same twenty-block radius most of our lives. But we’re barely acquaintances. They don’t like me or trust me. I can try to get closer to them, but nobody’s going to be spilling their secrets to me anytime soon. Least of all Nero Gallo.”

“You know what his family does?” Schultz says.

“Yeah. They’re old-school Italian Mafia.”

“Not just mafia. His father Enzo is the head don in Chicago.”

I shrug. “So?”

Schultz leans forward, his face alight with excitement. Ambition burns in his eyes.

“Can you imagine the promotion I’d get if I took down the Gallos?”

“Yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Can’t believe nobody’s tried before.”

Schultz ignores my sarcasm. “The key to Enzo Gallo is his sons. Not Dante—he’s too careful. Not Sebastian—he’s not even a gangster. It’s Nero. That reckless, vengeful little shit. He’s the weak point of the family.”

Schultz has forgotten about Aida. Or he figures she’s too well-protected by the Griffins these days.

“I don’t know if I’d call Nero a ‘weak point,’ ” I say.

“Why?”

“He’s smarter than you think. He got one of the highest scores in the school on the ACTs. His grades were shit because he never handed in any assignments.”

“See,” Schultz says softly. “You do know him.”

“I know he’s a total psychopath. Asking me to get close to him is like asking me to cozy up with a rattlesnake. He gets one hint that something’s up, and he’ll stab me in a heartbeat.”

“Better not fuck it up, then,” Schultz says coldly.

He doesn’t give a shit what happens to me. I’m a tool. And not even a very valuable one. Not an air compressor or a fancy impact wrench—I’m just a cheap plastic funnel. Easily replaced.

“Now,” Schultz says, sitting back against the fence enclosing the little outdoor dining area. “Tell me more about Levi.”

I take a deep breath, almost relieved to be off the subject of Nero.

“I went to his place today to get some more product. What do you want me to do with that, by the way?”

“Let’s see it,” Schultz says.

I hand him the paper bag. He looks inside, pulling out one of the pills. It’s small and yellow, shaped like a school bus, just like the ones he took out of Vic’s backpack.

Schultz smiles. Apparently, he’s pleased that Levi’s supply is so uniform.

“I’ll take these,” Schultz says. He counts out a dozen, slips them into a plastic Ziploc, and hands it back to me. “Keep a few, so you can sell them at parties when Levi’s watching.”

I stare at him. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Obviously.”

“But you don’t give a shit about people taking Molly. Not really.”

Schultz snorts. “I don’t give a shit about minnows when I’m hunting for sharks.”

I stuff the baggie in my pocket. “I need cash for the others,” I tell him. “Levi expects me to bring back ten bucks a pill.”

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