"You'll recognize those devices if you see them?" Father asked.
Any new tech or weapons our guys picked up in the city found its way onto my desk. "Yessir."
"Good. Let me know the minute they surface." He disconnected.
"Everything okay?" Bones asked.
"He wants me to be on the lookout for the bombs."
Bones's eyebrows rose. "You think one of the families will buy them?"
"Father does." The certainty in his statement made that clear. Still, I couldn't imagine someone being stupid enough to purchase that shit. Why would any of the families need bombs? Was someone planning to overthrow my family? The crime families had been prospering under Father's rule. Why would someone want to challenge him?
Bones shook his head, probably wondering the same things I was. "What the fuck is wrong with people?"
That was the million-dollar question I had no answer for.
With the rest of the afternoon free, Bones and I headed to the gym in my condo building.
When I'd graduated from high school, Father had given me the keys to a two-bedroom condo (one room for me, one for my bodyguard), located in a high rise just off the strip. He owned the building and controlled the security, but having my own space at least gave me the illusion of freedom while making it clear he expected me to stay in Vegas. There'd be no escaping the future my blood had bought me, but Father had granted me a measure of independence... one he could control, surrounded with people he could trust.
The building had its perks, one of which was the professionally-equipped gym. Bones took working out seriously, and the minute we stepped out of the locker room he morphed into some sort of fitness Nazi hell-bent on pushing me until I bled or coughed up a lung. But between the cop shooting and my father's shady business associates, I desperately needed to purge my brain, even at the expense of my body. I let him push me for almost two hours before I collapsed into the Jacuzzi, sore muscles sizzling as they hit the water.
Bones--looking no worse for the wear--strutted toward the pool and dove in. I waved him off, giving him my blessing to swim laps like some demented Olympic hopeful while I recuperated. I wanted to head upstairs, crawl into bed, and sleep for a week, but I had obligations. The twins would never forgive me if I bailed on them, and Bones had plans for us to go club hopping afterward.
Cold water splattered on my face, and then the level of the Jacuzzi raised over my chin. "You almost ready?" Bones asked, sitting across from me.
"Ready for what?" I asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. We had at least an hour and a half before we had to leave.
"Costume shopping."
I sure as hell wasn't wearing a costume. "Bones, today's Halloween. I doubt there's going to be anything left."
He climbed out of the Jacuzzi and walked toward his bag. "That's a chickenshit answer if I ever heard one. You know I got connections. Matter of fact, my friend Angela runs a costume shop, and she's been sending me pictures of their remaining inventory for the past hour. They got all kinds of shit left."
Bones had friends who did everything. The man was as connected as the goddamn Internet. He rustled through his bag, grabbed his phone, and headed back over. "Think I'll go as Sexy Zorro this year. What do you think?"
He positioned his phone in front of my face, flooding my vision with the image of a man dressed in black, shirt unlaced down to his navel, spandex tights that showed way more than I wanted to see. His hat and mask covered more than his outfit did. I smacked the phone away.
"You know I can't unsee that shit, right?"
He laughed.
"And we're taking the twins trick-or-treating first? I don't think they're old enough for Sexy Zorro. Hell, I'm not old enough."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep it G-rated for the kids, but after we drop them back home all bets are off."
"I got an idea. I can go as a responsible man taking his younger siblings out before babysitting his best friend all night," I suggested.
"That look is tired; you wear it all the time," Bones whined. "Live a little."
"I dressed up last year," I reminded him.
Bones and I had dressed as old school mobsters, complete with fedoras, cigars, and Tommy guns. My parents had both laughed at the sight and, to be honest, the getup had been kind of fun.
"Those were some outfits." He smiled, tossing me a towel. "We gotta do even better this year." He cocked his head and a wide grin spread across his face. "I think I know just the thing."
"Uh oh. That doesn't sound good," I said.
