A scream echoed down the fall.

Rae pulled out her earbuds and hollered at her roommate. "Shush, Sam! I am trying to study!" Sam raced down the hall, sliding on her socks into Rae, nearly knocking the psychology textbook out of her hands.

"Well, I am trying to study, too!" she shouted. "You just chose the wrong major!" Sam continued to sing along to whatever nonsense played in her earbuds, gyrating against her roommate. "We're on the pole dancing unit!"

Rae snatched the earbuds from Sam's ears. "Shush."

Sam deflated like a balloon before pouting and grabbing Rae's hands. "I will stop."

Rae nodded, relieved.

"If," Sam added, "you come with me to a club so I can practice."

"Practice pole dancing? It's a Tuesday night."

Sam nodded, excited.

Rae shook her head. "How is Exercise Science a real major?" She whirled on Sam. "What sort of jobs do you get with your degree?"

Sam pulled Rae in for a hug, whispering into her ear. "All of them."

Rae couldn't help but smile and roll her eyes at Sam's enthusiasm. Unaffected zeal seemed to be a prerequisite of the program. "I can't. I have to study."

Sam groaned and flopped down on Rae's lap, going limp and forcing Rae to hold her up.

"Get up, Sam."

"Only if you come with me!"

"I'm studying, Sam!" Rae finally shoved Sam off her lap and the girl slunk onto the floor, moaning in disappointment.

Then, Sam's eyes burst open with a mischievous glint. "What if I got Trevor to come with?"

Rae stiffened.

"Getting married within two years of graduation is part of The Plan, right?"

Rae jumped up from her seat, face burning red. "No." Sam dissolved into giggles. "How did you—why would you say that?"

Sam lay back on the floor, settling her hands behind her head. "You have, like, seven planners. Mid-to-Long Term Plans was a riveting read."

Rae scrunched her nose before sitting back down. "You should spend more time reading your textbooks and less time reading my personal belongings."

"Take it as a compliment. You are far more interesting."

Rae twirled her pen through her fingers. "When would you all be going? Hypothetically?"

Sam grinned.

&&&

Dominic twirled his silver dagger through his fingers. The man in front of him knelt, head to the ground. Blood trickled down the cut on his head. Dominic paced in front of him. "I won't force you to talk."

The man glanced up at Dominic, squinting through his unswollen eyes. Crockett had bound the man's hands behind his back and stood a few feet back, arms crossed in silence. The hem of the man's shirt had long escaped from his waistband, torn to reveal intricate purple tattoos swirling down his torso.

A Muci.

Worse, a Muci who stole from a source on Rossi turf.

"I've never held the Muci family in high regard," Dominic confessed. "The matching tattoos make your far too conspicuous for our line of work."

The Muci spit at Dominic's feet.

Dominic chuckled. "I won't force you to talk." He knelt by the man and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look Dominic in the eye. "My father would squeeze the truth from you like a lemon and then toss out the peel." Dominic stood, releasing his chin. "I'm not so cruel."

"I won't talk." The Muci fought against the rope binding his arms to no avail.

"Well, you don't even know the question yet." Dominic glanced at Crocket. "Are all the Muci so stupid?"

Crockett shrugged.

"Do what you want. I'm not going to talk." The Muci thrashed again, standing to his feet. Crocket kicked out his legs, making him crash back onto the floor.

Dominic groaned and pulled the Muci to his knees. "You keep talking and I haven't even asked the question."

The Muci scowled. "Ask it, then."

"Well, now you've put me in a bad mood." Dominic brandished his dagger before sighing. "In times like this, I only have one option. Dane!"

The Muci froze and began to struggle furiously, but Crockett stepped up and pinned him to the floor by the small of his back with his foot.

A Great Dane bounded into the room, circling Dominic a few times before sitting at his side. The dog's leaned his head against Dominic's shoulder.

The Muci began shouting obscenities at the enormous dog, fear creeping into his voice. Even Crockett rocked onto his back foot.

Dominic pat Dane on the head. "Down." Dane lay down, a few feet away from the Muci. "Unlike my father, I can't force you to talk. But don't think that I don't have my unique talents as well."

The Muci continued his barrage of swears. Dane glanced up at Dominic, waiting for a command.

"Now, my question is very simple. Even an idiot like you should understand. Answer and I'll give you a thirty second head start. Don't, and I'll let Dane snack on you right now." Dane's tongue flicked out. "I'm not stupid enough to believe you know nothing."

The Muci flinched, confirming Dominic suspicion.

Dominic then reached into the bleeding man's front pocket and pulled out a Loyola University student ID. "My question. How has your psychology class been going?"

The man froze before spluttering more nonsense about not telling anyone anything.

"Too late for that, my friend. As I said, I will give you thirty seconds."

Crockett lifted his booted foot. The Muci jumped to his feet and raced out the door. Dominic sat down behind his desk and set the ID card on his desk. He waved Crockett over, who avoided the Great Dane.

Dominic tossed him the ID card. "I want a roster of everyone in his class. Names, addresses, the works. Go to class a few times. If the source is obvious, let me know."

Crockett nodded and turned to exit.

"Also, give me a sample of the new source from last week. I want to ensure we're not searching for a needle we're already sewing with."

Crockett nodded and slipped out a back door.

Dane whimpered. Dominic glanced over his desk to see his dog still laying down. He glanced at his watch. "I must be feeling gracious today. Almost a minute. Dane, hunt."