Page 14 of All My Witches
“Right, because being married to a mobster is so good for her reputation,” Landonmuttered.
Michael ignored the sarcasm. “I have a job for you,Jericho.”
“He’s talking to you,” Sam helpfully offeredLandon.
Landon shot him a withering look. “I got it. What’s thejob?”
“I need you to get thething.”
Landon waited for him to expand on his instructions, but Michael seemed to think that was enough for Landon to figure out what he should bedoing.
“Thething?”
“Yes, you know about the thing. We’ve talked about it atlength.”
I yelped when I felt someone pinch my rear end, jerking to the side and crashing into Landon. “Whatthe… ?”
“Oh, don’t act cagey, my little crème brulèe,” Michael teased. “I know you really like it when I … touch youthere.”
Landon’s eyebrows practically flew off his forehead. “Where did you touch her?” He turned to me, his expression murderous. “Where did he touchyou?”
“Why do you even care?” Michael challenged, his demeanor breezy. “She’s mywife.”
“No, she’s not,” Landonsnarled.
“Dude, you’re supposed to be playing the game,” Marcus whispered. “I don’t think you’re doing itright.”
“Shut up,” Landon barked. He grabbed my arm and drew me back so Michael wasn’t close enough to accidentally – or purposely, for that matter – brush against me. “Don’t touchher.”
“She’s mywife.”
“Stop sayingthat.”
I lifted my hands to stave off a potential fight. “Can we get back to the thing? I think Jericho needs a reminder of what the thingis.”
Michael rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder he didn’t tip to the side. “What do you think the thingis?”
“Well … .” Landon looked to me forhelp.
Michael was a mobster. That could mean he had his fingers in a great many of nefarious pies. I latched onto the first one that passed through my mind. “Drugs. You want him to pick up a … bag of drugs,right?”
Landon’s expression was incredulous. “A bag ofdrugs?”
“You know I don’t run drugs, darling,” Michael admonished. “My brother died from a drug overdose, and I’ve sworn off the practice. How could you forgetthat?”
“Oh, well, that’s a terrible story,” Clove offered. “I think it’s great that you don’t run drugs. Drugs are terrible. They rip apart families and breakhearts.”
“How do you know?” Thistlechallenged.
Clove’s eyes flashed. “I’ve seen it ontelevision.”
“Right.”
“Maybe it’s a prostitute,” Sam suggested. “Mobsters run prostitution rings,right?”
The look Michael scorched Sam with was straight out of a Francis Ford Coppola movie. “My sister was tricked into prostitution by an older man who took advantage of her. She died after taking the wrong trick to a bad hotel. I do not engage inprostitution.”
Sam swallowed hard at the expression on Michael’s face. “Good toknow.”
