Page 28 of Inheritance
“That’s alright. I’ll teach ya,” he said with a smile and eye contact warm enough to make me forget, just for a second, that he was a killer under Gabriel’s command.
“It’ll have to be another time,” Michael said, stubbing out his cigarette. “I’m taking her downtown. Something at the museum.”
“I’ll come along.” Tony added.
“Fine, but I’m driving.” Michael insisted.
“What’s wrong with my driving?” Tony asked, mock-offended.
Michael didn’t respond right away as we walked toward the car.
“You drive just fine, Tony,” he finally said flatly, opening the back door for me.
“I do drive fine. More than fine,” Tony muttered as Michael shut the door, leaving me alone in the backseat for a moment. Then the passenger door opened and Tony slid in, the car rocking with his weight.
“I’m a great driver,” he added, twisting around to flash a grin. “So if I’m ever driving you somewhere, don’t worry about it. Ask anyone, besides Michael.” He finished saying just as Michael got in the driver’s seat.
Michael snorted. “You ran a red light last week.”
Tony waved a hand. “It wasn’t red. It was yellow. Barely.”
“It would have been fine if you braked. It would have been fine if you floored it to make the light. But what did you do?”
Tony threw up his hand, “You always got somethin to say.”
Michael started the engine, then looked back at me. “He slammed on the brake, changed his mind, then slammed on the gas, but by then the light was red.”
I smiled weakly, not sure how involved I was really meant to be in their conversation.
Tony let out an exaggerated breath. "Alright, alright. Let's get going, I'm starving."
"What do you mean you're fuckin starving? We're not getting food. You know what, get out," Michael snapped, half-serious.
Tony turned in his seat, already halfway through a sigh, his hand half-lifted like he might argue but didn’t. Instead, he glanced back at me, quieter now.
“…What do you think, Sophia? You hungry?”
His voice lacked the usual bravado. It was almost pleading. Like he was scared I might say no.
I nodded gently. “Kind of, I had a light breakfast. Maybe after the museum we can pick something up.”
He looked at me for a second longer smiling, then let his shoulders fall back against the seat.
“Alright get drivin Mike we don’t have all day.”
Sophia
Downtown loomed ahead, steel and glass and the constant pulse of traffic. But here, just off the heart of the city, things were a little quieter. Older. The museum was tucked among a row of historic buildings, their stone facades softened by time.
Michael pulled into the narrow side lot and cut the engine. The quiet that followed was too complete. No traffic, no wind, no city noise at all. Just silence.
Tony twisted in his seat to glance back at me. “You good?”
I nodded, unbuckling my seatbelt. “Just paperwork, right?”
“Just a quick signature, I was told,” Michael muttered, already stepping out.
We exited the car. I smoothed my jacket out of habit. The air had that sterile, pre-storm chill.
