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“Pull out your gun,” Moretti says.

My mouth dries.

Nugget does as he’s told.

“Point it at Danny.”

I look straight ahead, feeling the cold stare down from the gun pointed at my head, knowing Nugget would like nothing more than to pull the trigger.

“You’ll never repay me,” Moretti says to me. “I own you, just as I own every other man out there in that room. That’s what happens when you ask me for a favor. I thought you knew that. I thought I saw that in you the first time you walked into my office. You hardly had hair on your balls and yet you came in here acting as though you were a grown-ass man.”

I don’t answer. I’ve done a lot of dirty things for him. I’ve killed to protect his business. To protect him from the people out there who’d like nothing more than to see him dead. He got my friend a home so he wouldn’t have to leave Postings. He got me out of jail. So what? Now I owe him my life?

Fuck.

“I had the people killed who took your father and mother from you,” he says. “Do you know what I did to those people?”

“I don’t remember asking you to do it.”

“Careful, Danny. You have a gun pointed at you.”

I lift my chin, feeling as though my teeth might break from the force of my jaw.

“I’ve had men killed for less than what you’re doing now. Do you understand? You made a choice when you were thirteen. You and Johnny decided you wanted to be in this lifestyle. You don’t get out. This is it. This is your life. The only way you’ll be done with it is when that little black heart of yours stops beating.

“Now I can make that happen or we can continue with business. Which would you like?”

I’d like to cut your eyes out and shove them down your throat.

Of course, I don’t say this.

“You’re having second thoughts because of Mickey?” he asks.

“He died for nothing,” I reply.

“No. Mickey knew the risk. He’s always known.”

“You didn’t even blink an eye,” I say.

“What the fuck’s gotten into you? Huh? You get your dick wet a few times by that girl and now you’ve grown all soft on me? Where the fuck is Bones, the boy known around Postings for breaking the bones in people’s faces?”

I’ve heard people call me that around here, but it’s the first time Moretti has acknowledged it.

“Where’s the hard ass that works for me? The dark prince? The one I made my right fucking hand?” He slams his fist down on the table, yanking his cigar from his mouth. “Get the fuck out of here,” he says to Nugget.

Nugget drops his gun, and I turn to face him. He eyes me, and I lift my lip a tad. Moretti wasn’t going to kill me. He’s just trying to prove a point.

I think.

The door shuts and Moretti grabs a box of matches from his desk and strikes one, lighting the cigar. Woodsy tobacco fills the room as I look down at the matchbox. My mind is overrun with thoughts and the reality of my situation really sinks in.

This is my life.

There’s no way out but…death.

Bexley doesn’t want me anymore, so what else do I have? I’ve only known violence and crime since I was a boy.

She’s done the right thing. She’ll go on and have a happy life. Until I get things in order, and then I’ll come for her.