Page 120 of Wicked Rivals

My son narrowed his eyes.

“I willnever forgive you if you don't get her back.”

The control in his voice was remarkable despite the deepening flush on his cheeks and his hands balling into fists. He hesitated for a second. Then he finished his argument.

“What if it’s just like this picture? What if you can’t find her because I’m the only one who knows where to go? You need my help. I promise I’ll listen to you.”

The veins in his forehead and neck pulsed as he stared at me. Not once had he raised his voice. Still, he meant every word.

And he was right. I didn't know the school at all.

After studying him a little longer, I exhaled slowly through my nose, then lowered my voice to keep the sense of urgency out of my tone. Then, when I raised my finger, I forced myself to keep it out of his face. I pointed at the floor between us.

“You will stay behind me at all times. You will do exactly as I say without questioning me. And when it’s over, we don’t breathe a word of this to your mother. At least not the finer details anyway. Deal?”

His eyes widened in surprise, then he extended his hand.

“Deal.”

We had an understanding, an important one, and we shook on it. I stood up as Tony and Bruce entered the room.

“Suit up, Tony. We're heading to?—”

I glanced at Enzo for the information.

He stared at me again. Was that skepticism in his eyes?

“I already said I was taking you with me, boy. If nothing else, you can trust I’m a man of my word.”

That seemed to satisfy him, so then he looked up at Tony.

“We’re going to my school, Saint Christopher in Brooklyn.”

“Armed to the teeth,” I added. “Bruce, I want everything you can find—last known address, car, license plate, hobbies, known associates, aliases, phone numbers, work history, everything. The name is Donnie Luka.”

I looked at Enzo, and he nodded. Then I shifted my attention back to Bruce.

“I want the info ready when Tony or I call you. And keep working on the security feeds. We might need them as backup.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony and Bruce said at the same time. Then they hurried out of my office.

I looked back at my son.

“What are you going to do while we're out there, Enzo?”

“Stay behind you, do everything you say, and tell you where we need to go.”

“Good. Do you need anything before we leave?”

He shook his head so hard his curls bounced against his forehead.

“No, sir. Let's go right now.”

I appreciated his eagerness, but we had to be prepared.

“Hang on a minute,” I said.

Stepping around my desk, I opened the bottom drawer and unearthed a key buried beneath a stack of folders that unlocked a hidden compartment. I pulled out a polished wooden box, set it down and opened the lid with both hands, staring at the small revolver inside.

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