Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 142553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 570(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 713(@200wpm)___ 570(@250wpm)___ 475(@300wpm)
The brown leather jacket he wore looked soft from wear while the inside looked warm, lined in a wool. The ginormous collar of cream sheepskin framed the man’s unshaven face and shaggy brown hair. He looked like a character all right, but not your typical, shady one on this side of Blue Park. He reminded Dominic of the men in his westerns. It wasn’t only his coat giving him that vibe, but his matching brown leather boots and tight-fitting, washed-out Levi jeans.
Whoa, he looks like one bad motherfucke—
“No,” Lucifer answered, staring at the tiny target his son had nailed.
The man reached inside his brown leather coat to take out a long thin box, pulling out cigarillo, he narrowed his eyes on Dominic. “No one will ever be able to say you’re father of the year, heh, Lucifer?”
Dom’s young eyes widened, amazed at the way the man was speaking to his father.
“What are you doing here, Anthony?” Lucifer wasn’t angry at the sarcasm, which continued Dominic’s amazement.
The man turned and stared directly down to his hazel eyes as Dom swallowed hard at the tall man towering over him.
“Good shot. Can you do it again?”
It was Lucifer who answered. “Dom can do it every fucking time I tell him to.”
Anthony continued to stare him down through the smoke he blew out. “He doesn’t take after his old man, does he?” Anthony winked at him as he insulted Lucifer. “Your old man couldn’t hit a target unless he put his glasses on. He’s nearsighted as fuck.”
Dom turned his head back and forth between the two men, waiting for Lucifer to shoot him dead at the insulting way Anthony was talking.
No, he is one bad motherfucker.
Anthony started laughing, turning back toward his father. “The kid looks like he’s about to piss himself. Don’t worry, kid, Lucifer knows I’m just joking.”
“Your jokes will get you buried six feet under one day,” his father warned.
“You wouldn’t kill me for a harmless joke.” Taking another puff of his cigarillo, he asked, “Who can you trust as much as me, and who would do your dirty work for you?”
Lucifer must not have had a good answer, as his face got red in anger. “What are you doing here? You’ll be no use to me if we’re locked up in prison.”
“Chill. I borrowed a car to drive here.”
“Whose?”
“Urie.”
“He didn’t want to pay?” Lucifer’s face went a deeper shade of red.
Anthony shrugged under his coat. “No. I told you he wouldn’t. He has principles.”
“You left him alone in the car?”
Flicking the ashes off the thin cigar, Anthony shrugged again. “Don’t worry; he’s not in any shape to take off, even if he could manage to get out of the trunk.” Reaching inside his pocket to take out a set of car keys, he tossed them to Lucifer. “Figured you might want to give the final pièce de résistance in person. He called you a wannabe Caruso.”
Dominic stood perfectly still, making sure not to draw Lucifer’s attention to him at the apocalyptic rage that overtook Lucifer’s face.
“Stay here with the kids; DeeDee’s out at the liquor store,” his father hissed.
Dom didn’t release a shaky breath until Lucifer stormed out of the backyard.
“So, can you make the shot again?” Anthony asked with a smile, looking back down at him.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Show me.”
Dominic turned on his heel to face the target, raised the gun to the tree, and fired off another shot.
Anthony nodded at him approvingly. “Damn. You’re good, kid. Better than me, for sure.” Dropping the cigarillo to the ground, he crushed what little was left under the heel of his leather boot. “Has your old man taught you the most important lesson about guns?”
He quickly thought back to what Lucifer had taught him, trying to determine what would be considered the most important, when the gun was suddenly ripped out of his hand and his feet swiped out from under him.
Anthony laughed down at him, tucking the Glock into the front of his pants. “Any motherfucker can take it away from you unless you have the muscles to hold onto it.”
Dom watched as Anthony bent down, holding out his hand, but he didn’t take it.
“Don’t worry, kid, I won’t punish you when I give a lesson.”
Those words still didn’t stop him when he rolled to his side, getting to his feet without any help.
“Always expect someone to kick the ground from under you. If you let a motherfucker put you on the ground, you’ve already lost. Stand like this.” Anthony stood with feet braced apart, one foot slightly forward. “That way, you’ll be able to keep your balance.”
Nodding, Dominic carefully kept his eyes on Anthony’s feet, not seeing the slap coming until it was too late. He kept his hand from reaching for his stinging cheek.
“Lucifer might have taught you how to use a gun, but he hasn’t taught you shit about protecting yourself, has he?” Anthony said casually, reaching into his coat to pull his cigarillos out to light another one.