“What did he say?” I asked my dad.
“He told me someone was trying to kill you.”
“When?” I pressed.
“The day after I saw you last. He came around in the morning.”
“Tell me exactly what he said.” Golden leaned forward, his stare focused.
“He said he heard someone was going after my son.” My dad’s eyes darted toward me before refocusing on Golden. “Told me where to find him.”
“Is this his?” Golden waved the gun around.
“No, it’s mine.”
Golden grinned and settled back in the chair. “It’s too much gun for you.”
“So,” I interrupted, trying to push things along. “You went to the valley.”
“He was with another man,” my dad continued on. “But the other man saw me. We both shot. I ran.”
“You were wearing a ski mask in broad daylight.” Golden laughed. “And you’re a terrible shot.”
“I hit you.”
“My boss hit me,” Golden snapped.
“Did he now?” I arched a brow and waited for Golden to look at me, but he didn’t.
“There’s no wayhedid,” Golden answered, gesturing toward my dad with the gun that was definitely too big for him. He finally turned to look at me. “The hit on you was called off and two more were called in. What I don’t know is if they’re connected or coincidence.”
“Call Molinaro.” I stood up and smoothed my hands down the front of my slacks. “Have him come over.”
“Why are you even fucking around with that kid?” Golden asked, joining me on his feet. “You have a perfectly good son right here.”
“He just started coming around,” my dad muttered. “He wanted to talk shop.”
“He has a family,” I reminded him. “The Molinaros have their hands in enough shit. They don’t need you or our name.”
“The kid is too dumb to come up with this on his own.” Golden slipped my dad’s gun into his back pocket and frowned, muttering to himself.
“Call him up,” I said to my dad again. “Have him come around after dinner.”
“Why after?” Golden asked.
“Because I’m hungry,” I answered with a shrug. “Because I promised you a romantic dinner.”
“You’re…” Golden’s mouth twitched into the promise of a smile.
“I’m what?”
“You’re something else,” he said.
I flicked my attention back to my dad. “Call Molinaro.”
“Alright,” he whispered.
“You and I are gonna have a long talk when this is done, old man,” I warned, and his expression told me he knew what was coming. I held out my hand, palm up, and my father knew exactly what I was asking for. He twisted that gold signet ring off his hand and dropped it in my palm. “I don’t want this, but you don’t deserve it.”
