Chapter 14 Ryker
Ryker
PRESENT
I’m doing what I can to focus, but everything about Booker Bay makes unwanted memories resurface.
I’m also still trying to work out if the silver mask being left at the clinic was a message for me, or for Gianna. The latter is the nightmare scenario.
I love her fire, but that same fucking fire makes keeping her safe so damn hard. But I need to try. It’s why I’m here now, at the Fernando Garage.
Tyler’s been keeping tabs on Alexander, and we followed him to an old car park last night. Colour me surprised when Gianna lived up to her nickname and was there too, for a race. I kept my distance, only close enough to make out her movements.
I was going to jump in when I saw her hand over a wad of cash to the blond fucker.
Then punish her into next Sunday for thinking she could drift American Muscle.
Tyler tailed Silvia, but he didn’t keep enough distance and spooked them.
He was in hot pursuit for a while, but eventually the Silvia’s tail-lights faded away.
But when I followed the Evo I was surprised when an old friend stepped out from behind the wheel.
And now that Evo is hoisted in one of the bays of the Fernando Garage. The place still looks and smells like it did four years ago – like fucking heaven.
I’ve missed it, but it also feels like a knife is twisting at my insides from just being here.
‘How do you think he’s gonna take it?’ Tyler asks, spinning his cap backward.
‘Take what?’
‘You being back. Us being here.’ He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a snack bag. ‘We don’t even know if Renny still gets the texts or is looking for him.’
‘I dunno,’ I admit. ‘But we know Renny doesn’t race, so why else would he have been there last night? He has to have a lead. Whatever happens, just let it ride out.’
With Tyler on my left, we walk deeper into the garage. Paint mixes with the sting of turpentine and grease, flooding my senses. The metal clangs of tools resound across the space as two mechanics work deep in the engine bay of a Ford T-Bird.
‘Who fixed the brakes on the Rexy?’ one of the workers calls out.
‘Me,’ a familiar voice calls from underneath a Fiat Vignale at the back of the open space. ‘Puta idiota warped all four rotors.’
I let out a slow breath, moving my neck to the side until a sharp crack rings in my ears. I shoot Tyler a look. He nods.
I nudge the soles of Renny’s black Timberland boots.
‘Sounds like someone’s rotor pads are running lean,’ I say.
Renny’s movements cease. A pause hangs in the air before he rolls out on a creeper. It takes a moment before I see the decision of his next movement cross his face, and I’m slow to react.
He kicks my legs out from underneath me, knocking me on my ass on the oil-stained cement. His weight immediately follows as he straddles me, landing a fist across my cheekbone.
My eyes water. I blink the liquid away and aim for his stomach. Direct hit. But he counters with a blow to my jaw. The metallic taste of blood seeps into my mouth from the inside of my cheek. We tumble, fighting for the upper hand, knocking over a tool chest and whatever was on top of it.
His legs wrap around my body, and he twists me over. I breathe hard, dragging in air through my nose.
‘You fight like shit.’ I spit the words, but the venom is alkaline and he knows it. A crimson smile warps his face in a bright gleam, levity dancing around in his black glare.
‘You still fight like shit,’ I repeat in a strangled rasp.
His booming laugh fills the room. His fingers relax from around my collar and he gives my head a playful smack.
‘You both done?’ Tyler chimes in, gripping Renny’s elbow and bringing him to stand. They shake hands then Renny pulls him in, pressing their foreheads together.
‘I fucking missed your faces,’ Renny says, though he pauses when his eyes land on me.
A faint trace of a smile still there, he reaches for a cleanish shop cloth and throws it at me.
‘Clean your shit before you get blood all over the floor. Tatts looks sick, though. You look like the fucking Grim Reaper with all that ink.’
Red streaks appear on the cloth as I wipe my face. When I look back at Renny, he’s twirling his dark moustache. ‘I can’t return the compliment,’ I say. ‘Bet that’s a real pussy deterrent you’ve got on your face.’
‘Nah. The ladies love this shit.’ He pauses, grinning widely. ‘Just ask Little G.’
My face drops and I go to deck him. He holds out his hands in defence, throwing his head back in laughter.
‘Fuck, I’m kidding. Still a soft spot, huh? Let me guess …’ He twirls again before snapping his fingers. ‘She’s why you’re back?’
‘Just keeping an eye on her.’ I widen my stance and fold my arms across my chest.
A small hiss leaves his lips, and he rubs his forehead. ‘Still, huh? When’s the fucked-up foreplay gonna end?’
‘What happened at the race last night?’
‘I’m hurt, y’know.’ He places a hand over his heart. ‘No, “Hey Renny, how are you? Missed you. I haven’t laughed since I skipped town?”’
‘Do you still get the texts?’ Tyler asks, ignoring his theatrics.
Any trace of humour vanishes from Renny’s features. ‘As always.’
‘So, what happened at the race last night?’ I press.
‘I’d say she lost about eight grand. That’s what I had to put down. She clipped the first pillar in that car park, so her car’s got some damage too.’
He points to the Mustang perched in the panel-beating booth.
‘She not in today?’ I ask.
‘She is.’ Renny nods. ‘She’s taking Chuck for a walk. She’s pretty shaken up by the whole thing.’
‘Did she ask why you were there?’
‘What do you think, puta? Of course she did. I told her I went to see what people are running under their hoods outside The Tropics.’ He pauses, a frown crossing his face and he rubs his chin. ‘Then she mentioned something about competition? Thought I was sussing out the owner of Midnight Spares.’
‘What’s that?’ Tyler perks up.
‘Some garage over in Empire City. A chop shop, but she had this look on her face …’ He shakes his head. ‘I think she has more to say about it.’
A growl vibrates through my chest and I twist the cloth into a coil so tight, my knuckles bleach. ‘Who the fuck is this guy and why did he involve her?’
‘I’m still trying to work that one out,’ Renny says, moving to the mini fridge on the side wall. He takes out three bottles of water, tossing one each to Tyler and me. I place mine, along with the cloth, on the workbench beside me.
My eyes are fused to him when Renny continues. ‘You guys heard the rumours about a racer cleaning up along this side of the coast? He never stays in one place for long, and the name he uses changes every time. I’ve been tailing him for a year now, waiting to get an in. Last night was it.’
I nod. It must be the race that Alexander was alluding to when talking to those girls back at Luxe.
I’ve learned more about it since then. It’s always a small underground meet, nothing like The Tropics.
He’s right about the name changing, but the character description also changes.
It could be a different lackey every time.
Tyler turns to Renny, suspicion etched into his face. ‘You think it’s him?’
‘I dunno. There was a blond guy, the organiser, I didn’t get a look at his face because he sent his friend with a limp to collect the cash,’ Renny replies, unscrewing the cap and taking a chug of his water.
‘Alexander,’ I state. ‘We’ve been tailing him, too.’
‘Whatever his name is, he’s just a lackey,’ he says before turning to Tyler, who now has a celery stick hanging from his mouth. ‘What the fuck is that shit?’
‘Sodium cluster salts, fucker.’ Tyler brushes his hand away. ‘It’s good for your nervous system.’
Renny’s face twists. ‘Nervous? Que porra é essa do you have to be nervous about?’ He takes the stick from Tyler’s mouth and bites down, then immediately spits the half-chewed mess on the floor behind him. ‘That tastes like hairy ass.’
Tyler shakes his head with a sideways smirk. ‘It’s been less than thirty minutes and you’re already pissing me off.’
While Tyler and Renny continue baiting each other, I pull out my phone, bringing up Alexander’s location history.
He’s been back repeatedly to where all the industrial sites are in Empire City.
My guess is that’s where Midnight Spares is located.
It’s probably time to pay the maggot a visit.
I switch the view to his current location.
What I see has me refreshing the app but it remains the same. That can’t be right …
When I look up, Renny is staring at me with harsh eyes. ‘Whatever you’re doing, I want in.’
I nod, but in the corner of the garage, something catches my attention. A black R1 motorbike.
My black R1. I haven’t seen it in four years, not since that night …
Without a word, I head toward it. The closer I get, the more my heart sinks. The deep scratches in the metal panels are sharp against my fingertips, the pain shooting right to my chest. I feel Renny follow without having to turn to see him.
‘Why did you keep this?’ I try to keep the rage at bay while my stomach lurches into my throat.
‘Uh, actually, Little G kept it.’ His voice solemn as he places his hands in his pockets. ‘She put it back together. Then pulled the whole thing apart to put it back together again. I don’t know how many times she did it.’
‘Why?’
‘Sometimes we do things and don’t know why.’ He shrugs. ‘It’s been here ever since. We didn’t feel right turning it into scrap.’
I nod. Renny’s right. Sometimes there’s no explanation behind action. But maybe, Gianna also knows more about that night than she’s let on.
Renny clears his throat, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Hey mano, do you remember the last story Pai told us?’
‘How could I forget?’
I look back at Renny, who looks at me as though searching for a ghost.
‘What’s your tank taking?’ he finally asks.
It’s running on fumes.