Petie slowed the car as they turned onto the street where the Italians said they'd meet them; a suburban area in Applerock, where there were a few vehicles in driveways and hugging curbs. Pretty discrete location...especially if you wanted more eyes and guns around than what there appeared to be. Max kept a sharp eye on windows as they passed houses, and as the street curved, a few men standing around an SUV came into view.

"Looks like our guys," Duncan commented from the front passenger seat.

Max took in a slow, deep breath. "Pull up behind them."

Petie left just enough room between his front bumper and the Italians' rear license plate that a flea might have been able to squeeze between them if it really wanted to, and Max didn't waste any time getting out and straightening his sleeves. He was sporting all black; everything from his suit pants, to his button-up, to the tailored vest, and polished shoes... His red hair was slicked back, styled neatly into place. He had on a watch and earrings, and a few of his favorite rings adorned his knuckles too.

Max looked like a fucking villain...which he felt was plenty appropriate for what he was about to do.

"Evening," he said in a curt tone as he moved to meet one of the goons on the passenger side of the car.

"That him in the back?" the guy asked, trying to get a better look at who'd been sitting next to Max as he and the other two guys came closer.

"Where's Dina?"

The goon who'd spoken first, turned to look at Max as if he'd either asked him something very rude or very dumb. "Which one?"

"Benni, Rufino, Andrea...? I don't really care which."

After blinking a few times, the goon cackled, a wide smile lifting his stubble-covered cheeks. "You didn't really think one'a them was coming out here, did you?"

"Why not?" Max said, tilting his head. "I came out here."

The smile faded from the goon's face, and his expression soured. Wiping his nose on the back of his hand, he took a few more steps towards the car. "Well, is this the guy Gallagher was 'sposed to hand over or not?"

Max's lips curled into a sneer. These idiots really had no clue who he was... He'd fucking fix that.

The paler, broader of the three was practically hovering over Max, giving him so little breathing room that he could have practically guessed what the thug's last meal was, and in one smooth motion, Max threw his elbow out, catching the Italian in the face. There was a loud 'pop' and the man cried out, gripping his nose as red gushed down his upper lip.

One of the other two goons drew on him, and that was enough of an invitation for Max to blast a hole into the guy's shooting arm, causing the stunned Italian to drop his pistol and shriek in pain.

At the same time, the lead goon stumbled back, narrowly avoiding the back passenger door as Rory stepped out with a metal bat in hand. Duncan had climbed out too, forcing the guy with the broken nose onto his knees at gun-point.

Now, Max was the one to chuckle, but it was fleeting; his briefly visible glee replaced by a grim frown. "What gave you the idea we were handing anyone over?"

"Huh-hey! Look! I-I-I-I didn't want any fuckin' trouble!" the lead goon stammered, barely dodging the test swing Rory took at his kneecaps. "I'm not armed! I-I-I don't even have a piece on me! You really gonna kill a man that ain't got a weapon?"

"They aren't dead," Max said dryly, motioning to the man's two bleeding companions. "Yet."

"Why the fuck?"

"Listen-" Max paused a second, pointing his magnum at the guy before motioning with it for the guy to talk... More specifically, to give him a name.

"Costa," the goon provided, reading Max's expectant expression and catching on quickly, forehead gleaming with sweat.

"Look, Costa, Kingsport's not that big of a city," Max crooned, "And if the Dinas are going around disrespecting the Gallaghers, how soon do you think it'll be before the Bertis and the Cappellas start running their mouths too? Hm? How long before they start overstepping...?"

"N-not long?" Costa said quickly, eyes darting between Rory and Max while the shot Italian continued to groan in agony as he desperately tried to keep pressure on his weeping wound.

Max smiled contemptuously.

"You want me to tell 'em?" Costa stammered. "I-I'll fuckin' tell em' that, if you want me to! I'll tell 'em whatever the hell you want!"

"Before that," Max said, his posture relaxed, while Costa was anything but. "You're gonna tell me where Rufino Dina is."

"Where he is? Like, right now?"

Max sighed, almost like a kid who'd already grown bored of a game. "Yep. Right now."

"I-uh- I think he went to the west side."

Max's eyes narrowed. "What for?"

"I dunno. He just said he wasn't comin' with us."

In a blur of movement, the barrel of Max's magnum was pressed against Costa's oily nose, hard enough to bend it slightly.

"He had some ahh-motor heads t-t-to talk to! Over in Commerce City! That's it! That's all I know!"

Shit. The mafia prince stepped away, raking his hand through his hair before checking his watch and making up his mind for what his next move would be...

"Kill the loud one," Max growled to Rory, "And fuck up the other two for wasting my time," he added with a dark look over his shoulder, before getting back into the car and pulling out his phone.

"Heeey, Rufino! Didn't expect to see you slumming it on the west end, Buddy!" Oscar said, forcing his best fake smile and it did look fake. To be fair, Rufino probably didn't expect anything less.

"No, pezzo di merda," Rufino spat. "I bet you fucking didn't."

"Okay, dunno what you just said, but, rude-" Oscar said, holding up his hands as the Italian got closer to him. "I get it, though. You're mad about the car."

"The car? Are you fucking stupid? Who gives a flying fuck about a stupid car? It's like four years old, I was just going to give it to my little sister once I got a new one for my birthday."

Oscar's expression froze a moment and he tilted his head like a curious dog while his brain tried to make sense of what it was hearing.

"Wait... So you're, like, not mad?"

"Oh, I'm pissed, but not at you. I spoke to Victor, here, an I get it," Rufino tossed an arm around Oscar's shoulder, who swayed as stiff and awkwardly as a coat rack. "Ya did what ya had to. I respect that, Otto."

"Oscar," the punk corrected.

"Whatever." Rufino shrugged. "What I'm try'n to say is, that I took care of your debt to Victor here, and invested a pretty penny into your little club house, and all I want in return is a little repayment."

Oscar's curiosity had turned into the same look of disdain that every teenager gave their parents when they asked them to take out the trash. But just like those teenagers, Oscar had already resigned himself to the fact that he would inevitably have to deal with the trash...regardless of how much he hated it.

"Alright..." Oscar gritted out and his reluctance only seemed to add to Rufino's enjoyment. "What do you want?"

"I want Marcus Gallagher. Everything about him. Where he goes, who he hangs out with, where he eats... If he shits, I wanna know about it."

"Why do you care about where he shits?"

"Not literally, you moron!" Rufino said, smacking Oscar on the back of his head. "I want you to keep an eye on him!"

"Bitch!" Oscar snapped, rubbing his head, but the Italian must not have thought that he was taking this seriously enough, because the next thing that Oscar knew, the cold metal barrel of a glock was pressed under his nose.

"You stay with Marcus... Report to me, and I don't blow your fucking face off. Got it?"

The sudden blaring ringtone from Oz's pocket caused Rufino to jump, but realization quickly brought a grin to his face, and he leaned back. "I bet that's for you," he said before looking at Victor. "This is too good. That's probably Marcus calling to check on him already!"

But when Oscar answered, the voice that floated out over the receiver within the now nearly silent room was light and high-pitched... Distinctly feminine.

"Hey, Oscar!"

Rufino's brow's knitted as he stared intently at the punk.

"...Shoot. This is Oscar, right?"

"Hey! Yeah, no, it's Oscar," he said, avoiding the many eyes trained on him.

"Hey! Yeah! I'm sorry to call so late, I just... You know, I asked my friend, the one that was with us that night we first met at that Asian restaurant, for your number, because after dinner the other night, I just couldn't stop thinking about you... Are you free at the moment? I didn't catch you at a bad time, did I?"

It was impossible to tell how clearly the others were making out everything she was saying, but Rufino rolled his eyes, and motioned for Oscar to wrap things up.

Something was wrong. Oscar was sure that the voice belonged to Elise. He'd bet money on it. But she wasn't using any names, or direct locations. Almost as if she knew someone was listening.

His mind began to race over all the possibilities as to why Max's sister would be calling him right now, and he came to one conclusion; something had happened with Max's meet up, but he couldn't ask what, at least not right now.

"Oh, um... I wouldn't say it's a bad time, but could I call you right back?"

"Sure! Right, of course! I'll look forward to it," the voice on the other end said, apparent enthusiasm only slightly dampened. "Talk to you soon!"

Rufino sighed exasperatedly the moment Oscar had hung up. "Now, we have an understanding, right? I did you a good turn, and now you're gonna do me one, and andrà tutto bene. We'll be good. Yeah?"

Normally, this would be where someone's conscience would kick in; that little nagging voice would crop up to urge them to reconsider... But Oscar didn't have that voice. Or maybe it was less that he didn't have it, and more that he'd tied it up and stuffed it in a burlap bag at the back of his mind a long time ago.

Either way, this wasn't about what was right or wrong; loyal or not. This was about him living to see another day. So, his options were slim.

"You got it!"

Besides, just because he agreed, didn't mean he'd actually have to do it... Right?

"Now," Rufino paced a bit and rubbed his clean-shaven chin before shoving his gun back in its holster under his casual blazer. "When did you two plan to meet up again?"

"Uh, well, I usually leave that up to Max. He's got a little more going on most days than yours truly," Oscar explained.

"Max, huh?" Rufino grinned. "Right. Well, you get me that info just as soon as you can. Okay, Ozzy?" he said, roughly patting Oz's cheek as he passed him. "I'm counting on you..." Then Rufino stopped to lean just inside the door frame. "And uhh..." Rufino clicked his tongue in thought before continuing, "So is nonna Whitaker. Don't let me down, buddy!" the Italian's teasing tone echoed on his way out...

Oscar felt like he'd handled the mention of his grandmother rather well. At least until he felt his smile falter and eye twitch... Inside, he was anything but calm.

His Nan was his entire world. Everything that was good, and fair, and kind, in him was for her—because of her. She didn't know who the real Oscar Bradley was, and he never wanted her to. But now, it didn't seem to matter... Because it turns out, what someone doesn't know actually can end up hurting them.

Once it seemed Rufino was finally gone, his attention settled on Vick, who was already getting up like the show was over.

"I can't believe you gave up my family to that piece of shit!" Oscar hissed, in a low tone as if Rufino might somehow come back in at any moment.

"Whoa, hold on a second. You better check your tone, kid. I would never give out any club members' personal information like that."

"Then how did he know about her?"

"Good question. Maybe you should have thought about that before you pissed him off."

Victor sounded like every condescending parental figure that Oscar's mind could fathom at that moment, and he hated it. Most of all, he hated how right he was...

"Look, you're still one of us..." Victor said. "I'll have Jean and Ted keep an eye on her."

A look passed between Oscar and Vic. Both of them knew it wasn't much, but Victor's pride in the gang would never allow him to say that they might not have the manpower to take on the mob.

"Best way to keep her safe is to keep your word to the Italians..."

Would you agree to spy on your lover (and/or best friend) for a rival mob if it meant protecting your family? 🕵️👀

What did you think of what Max did to Benni Dina's lackeys? 😰

We can't wait to share the next chapter with you all!

Shout out to crazePurple ! Thanks so much for your support!!