Seven

“Leave the weapon.” I held my hand out as I slowly moved toward Reese. The ultimate insult for a Mafia Soldier was for him to have to relinquish his weapon.

“Over my dead body.” Reese pointed his gun at me, but Logan and Marshall both gunned him down before he had a chance to fire. Reese probably would have lived if Marshall hadn’t shot him point-blank between the eyes. But he wasn’t playing, and neither was I.

Logan nodded toward Reese’s body, ...