Page 33 of Forever Golden

As much as I don’t want to answeranyof his questions, this one is the lesser of two evils.

“It’s serious,” is all I say.

That smug look on his face doesn’t leave when he nods.

“Either way, you were smart to get out from under Ricky. The streets are heating up more every day. Be a shame for you to lose him to prison like you did Hunter. Or, you know, worse.”

My gut twists when he says that, and I lose focus a bit.

“What’sthatsupposed to mean?”

Tommy shrugs and he’s smiling a bit now. “Nothing in particular, but you’ve atleastheard the Ruizes haven’t exactly been making friends lately.”

“Your dad and Paul have been at each other’s throats for years now. That’s nothing new.”

“Damn, you misseverythingbeing at that fancy-ass school, don’t you?” he says with a dark laugh. “Paul’s got bigger enemies than Pop. Been a lot of hotshots from out-of-state sniffing around Cypress Pointe the past few months.”

“Like who?”

The question makes his smile grow. “Thought we weren’t sharing information?”

My breathing quickens and I hate everything about this. He knows Ricky and I are close—even if he’s currently on my shit-list for being late, and I’m ignoring his texts—but of course I’d want to know if there was something happening that he needs to look out for.

“I’ll let you have this one for free since you’ve been out of the loop,” Tommy teases. “The O’Farrell family—heard of ‘em?”

I shake my head, feeling my stomach sink for reasons I don’t yet understand. “No, who are they?”

“Bad motherfuckers from Boston,” he answers. “They’ve been doing an awful lot of business in the city lately.”

“Is… that a bad thing?”

I feel so naïve asking that, especially seeing as how my gut’s already answered that question for me.

“Started out friendly enough, but some would say that ain’t the case anymore. My sources tell me the O’Farrells have been trying to do too much too soon, taking a bigger piece of the proverbial pie than what’s been offered. That’s the problem with parasites, though. Leave ‘em unchecked and they tend to kill the host,” he adds. “Guess that’s why it’s been decided not to leave that shit unchecked.”

My heart’s in my throat now, and I’m afraid to think of what this all means for Ricky—directly, indirectly.

“But enough about the family business,” Tommy continues with a smile. “You got any idea how to use this thing?”

My gaze shifts to the box he holds and, suddenly distracted by my own rampant fear, I take a few seconds to answer.

“It’s been a while.”

“Which means no,” he scoffs. “Guess you better block off a weekend and find some YouTube videos. I’m in sales, not training.”

I don’t bother explaining that, back when Mike was still on the force, hedidteach Hunter and me how to load and handle a handgun. Partly, I keep this to myself because I don’t feel like sharing anything personal at the moment. But I also don’t speak up because it almost sounds like he’s letting me take the box. I’m reluctant to get my hopes up, though.

“Fifty now, because I know shit’s been tough for you since Hunter left, but I expect weekly payments until I say we’re square. Understood?”

I nod and fish the money from my pocket. “Understood.”

He hesitates as he stares at the chump-change I’m offering, and when he unlocks the security door to take it, he curses to himself through the entire exchange.

“Don’t make me come find you to get my money,” he warns. “I don’t care how far back we go; I always get what’s mine.”

I’m shivering as I step down off his porch, and it has nothing to do with it being cold as balls out here, while having everything to do with what my gut’s telling me—I’m about ninety-nine percent certain I’ve just made a huge mistake.

But like with all things, time will tell.

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