Fire Line (Griffith Brothers #3)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

LENNON

Ten Years Ago

“G

et your shoes on,” Justin barked as he stomped through our shitty apartment. He grabbed a backpack from the closet and slammed the door. Loose flakes from the sagging popcorn ceiling rained down on the dingy carpet.

My brother was on edge and twitchy. Just perfect.

All I wanted was to finish my homework and head to bed. He knew I had to be at work to open up in the morning before school.

The last thing I wanted to do tonight was go somewhere because he needed a fix.

Half the time, he’d vanish for days and leave me on my own. The other half, he was way too insistent on keeping me under his thumb and used his legal guardian status to do so.

“I have shit to do,” I grumbled as I turned my attention back to the stupid essay I had been working on for hours.

He threw a set of keys at me. “I don’t care. Get up. You’re driving.”

I caught the keys and let out a sarcastic laugh. “Since when did you get a car?”

“I’m borrowing it. Get a move on.”

Whatever. It was easier to go with what he wanted to do than to argue.

I threw on a pair of knockoff fur boots and grabbed a jacket. “We’re not going to be gone long, right? I have to be up in a few hours.”

“You’ll be back in time to open the store.”

That wasn’t promising.

“If I’m late, Mr. Morelli isn’t going to let you use my employee discount anymore,” I yelled at him.

Because that’s all I had to leverage. A measly fifteen percent off at the bodega down the block.

I knew how to drive, but I wasn’t great at it. It was more of a figure-it-out-as-you-go situation. I didn’t even have my license. It wasn’t like my brother and I had a car, and I could walk to most places. If I couldn’t walk, I’d take the subway.

Justin was more on edge than usual as we hustled down the sidewalk. He flexed his hands and fidgeted with his pants every ten seconds.

I followed him down an alley that led behind a bar.

The rank odor of trash, old beer, and rancid oil filled the night air. Rodents scurried through the gross haze.

“Get in.” He pointed to a small sedan parked in the shadow of a building.

“You gonna tell me what we’re doing or where we’re going?” I asked as I unlocked it and slid behind the wheel. “Or whose car you’re borrowing?”

“Shut up and drive. Go down to Amsterdam and then get on Harlem River Drive. We’re taking the bridge into New Jersey.”

“New Jersey?” I shrieked, slamming my hands onto the steering wheel. “I have work and school tomorrow. It’s ten at night! What the hell do you have to do in New Jersey?”

“It’s when I have the car. Shut your fucking mouth and drive, Len.”

At least the traffic wasn’t that bad because of how late it was.

Justin kept checking his phone every five minutes like he was waiting for a call. Finally, the screen lit up, and he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Yeah. I’m on my way,” he said a moment later.

I raised an eyebrow but kept my attention on the road.

“It’ll be where I said it will be. We already talked about this.” Justin gritted his teeth so hard I was certain they were going to shatter. “She’s driving.”

Who was he talking to?

“It’ll be fine. We’ll meet up tomorrow,” he said before hanging up.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?” I sassed as I came off the George Washington Bridge, leaving New York and entering New Jersey.

Lights from passing cars and buildings flashed in the night.

“Take a left down here,” he clipped, ignoring my question.

I slammed on the brakes at a red light. “And what if I don’t want to? Just tell me where we’re going.”

He hit me with a sharp look. “Do what I say.”

“Why should I?”

“Blood’s thicker than water. Remember that, Len.”

I rolled my eyes and eased through the green light.

Justin pawed around the backpack, unzipping it and closing it again. “I’m meeting a friend for some business.”

A caustic laugh slipped from my mouth. “This late at night? Right.”

He pointed to a dimly lit building on a deserted street. “Park along the sidewalk. Cut the lights but keep the engine running. I’ll be back in less than ten minutes.”

“And if you’re not?” I asked.

“I will be.”

Justin slipped out and closed the passenger door so softly that I wasn’t sure it had even latched.

I sighed and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. If I had to guess, he was going to get some shitty weed from some sketchy guy to push on our block. He’d probably be at least a half-hour. Might as well grab a catnap.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

I opened my eyes around the twelve-minute mark.

A car slowed as it passed by, the headlights dancing off the building’s sign. What was Justin doing at a Federal Credit Union? It was closed.

Dread bloomed inside me, floating up my throat, then sinking down like a rock in my gut.

No, no, no . . .

I checked the clock again. Thirteen minutes had passed when a loud crack rang out.

BAM!

BAM! BAM!

My blood ran cold.

I knew that sound. I heard it all too often in our neighborhood.

Gunshots.

A dark figure sprinted away from the building and ripped the car door open. “Go!”

“Oh my God!” I screamed at the sight of blood spattered across his shirt. “What did you do?”

“Fucking go!” he roared as he threw a bag into the backseat.

“ Justin! ”

My brother’s expression turned lethal. He pulled back his jacket, and the glint of slick, black metal peeked out of the front of his waistband. “I said, drive .”