Page 67 of Surrender

Even though he didn’t always get along with Don Cresci, they were still father and son.

I had only wished to have a father like Don Cresci growing up.

“Why would I need to murder him? Think, Silvano,” I urge him. “Use the brain I know you have. He was about to announce his retirement. What reason would I have to kill him when he was already stepping down? I—”

A gunshot rings out, and I instinctively move to duck for cover. Fuck! I can’t tell what happened at first, but Silvano and Enzo are both still very much alive. It couldn’t have been Fox; he wouldn’t have missed.

Unless…

I glance behind me, just in time to watch a man fall over the side of the container and land in a bloody heap.

Well, if I’d had any doubts that this was a trap, they’re gone now. Fox had probably seen the man getting into position to shoot me while I’d been distracted talking to Silvano and Enzo.

“What the fuck?” I ask, angry and hurt, which makes no sense. I’m a grown man, not a child.

Yet there it is, strong and thrumming in my chest all the same.

Before I can get anything else out, though, Enzo lifts his gun to aim at me, and I barely manage to dodge out of the way before the bullet hits the concrete behind where I’d been standing. Fuck. Even if I’ve convinced Silvano, it doesn’t matter to Enzo, who presses me even as I hunt for cover.

The only saving grace is that only one of them is trying to shoot me.

But Silvano doesn’t stop Enzo, either.

Another bullet narrowly misses me, and I know I’m not going to get out of this by staying on the defensive. I aim my gun at him and take a shot. I miss, the bullet going past Enzo’s torso and embedding itself in the container behind him.

It does distract him, though, and that gives me the opportunity to close the distance between us. Guns are less useful in close quarters—a fact that Enzo knows too. He dodges my blow and tries to aim anyway, but I bring my fist down hard on his arm, diverting his aim. He manages to keep his grip on the gun, but I keep going anyway, kneeing him in the gut.

“Just give up,” I say, pulling the gun out of his hand. “We’re on the same side.”

“You fucking offed the boss.” Enzo wheezes… but he catches his breath faster than I expected, and he tackles me to the ground.

It knocks the wind out of my lungs, and we grapple as I try to get the words out, “I didn’t fucking kill him! Jesus, Silvano, tell him!”

“You were the only one with the opportunity,” Silvano says, but he sounds less sure of himself. “And you’ve got the motive, and…”

Jesus Christ, this is getting old.

I manage to get the upper hand on Enzo, and even though I don’t actually want to hurt him while he’s doing his fucking job, I’m not going to die for it. I slam the back of his head into the ground.

I don’t have time for this. I can hear Fox grunting in the background, in some sort of fight of his own, and there’s nothing I can do about it as long as I’m down here trying to convince a grieving man I wasn’t responsible for his father’s death.

It dazes him long enough to where I can say, “Peter ordered the fucking hit on me. Who do you think has a motive?”

Silvano looks down at his gun. “Peter is… overenthusiastic. He overheard my father talking about his change in plans. He…” Silvano bites his lip. “Even if he ordered the hit on you, that doesn’t mean he would take out my father. It’d only cause problems for me if everybody thought I had him assassinated.”

Enzo is still struggling beneath me, and there’s blood on the pavement under us. “Stay fucking still,” I say as I get my gun pressed against the side of his head. “While we hash this out like real fucking adults.”

“You fucking betrayed him.” Enzo sneers at me. “He thought of you like a son. But you weren’t content to just be a follower.” He attempts to elbow me, but before he can dislodge me, I pull the trigger.

I should probably feel… something about blowing out an old ally’s brains, but all I have is a sense of annoyance because no one will fucking listen to me.

The gunshot is loud so close to my ear, so it’s a good thing I have my earpiece in the other to hear Fox say my name. “I’m going to send you something. It’ll be useful,” he tells me.

I exhale loudly in relief that he’s still all right, still alive, and I release Enzo so I can train my gun on Silvano. He doesn’t move to shoot.

“Yep. Ready now,” I tell Fox. A ping sounds from my phone—a text message. “I’m going to take my phone out of my pocket now,” I say to Silvano. “Fox says there’s something we need to know about.”

I hit play on the recording he sent, and Silvano and I both listen to the echo-y gunfight. Peter sounds like he’s in extreme pain when he admits to having sent somebody to kill Cresci. My eyes narrow when I hear him beg Fox to take the knife away from his cock.

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