Chapter 14 Ryker #2
I don’t get the chance to answer, because Chuckie comes in at a gallop, his tail thwacking my shins. I reach down to give him the scratches he loves, but he circles around me restlessly. I expect Gianna to come through the open roller door next, but there’s no soft patter of her footsteps.
Chuckie circles once more and rushes to the doors which lead to the front reception. Leaving Tyler and Renny behind, I follow.
Gianna’s voice becomes audible as I approach. ‘We only service vehicles that are registered.’ Her tone is firm.
The laughter of a man comes next. ‘I’m not here to fuck around, lady. Get your painter to come out here and talk to me so you can go back to filing your papers or whatever you receptionists do.’
Well, butter my ass and call me a biscuit. That fucking tracker wasn’t glitching. I know that voice.
‘I am the painter,’ Gianna replies, self-assured. ‘And we only service vehicles that are registered. So get it off our property.’
‘Listen here—’
I fling the door open. ‘Problem?’
Gianna’s shoulders drop. She releases a long sigh, as if I’m the problem in her life.
Rude.
‘We’re good.’ She taps her fingers on the counter, not even bothering to turn around. ‘Skippy here was just leaving.’
Alexander scowls at her before looking up. He wags his finger at me, eyes narrowing. ‘I know you from somewhere.’
I cock my head to the side with a grin. ‘You get bottles of Macallan given to you regularly?’
‘Ah.’ Alexander snaps his fingers. ‘The bar, Luxe. That’s where I fucking know you from. Great. Is there anyone competent who works around here?’
‘You know each other?’ Gianna’s curls whip around as she turns to face me.
She takes me in, eyeing me up and down, so fast that if I’d blinked, I’d have missed it.
Still, it fires me up to know I have the same effect on her, because as she stands there in my jacket and a tiny denim skirt, the need to wrap her legs around me and devour her body on the hood of the Vignale is all-consuming.
But there’s a more pressing issue at hand. What the fuck are you doing at my girl’s work, maggot?
‘We’re old friends, aren’t we, Alexander?’
‘Friends?’ Gianna hisses with a dirty look.
I frown at her twisted look of apprehension. I’ll talk to her later about what’s eating her.
I round the countertop and wrap my fingers around Alexander’s nape, delighting in the way he tries to mask his grunt when I press hard. I may have let him think he had it over me back at the bar, but here, with Gianna, I don’t waste time.
‘I’ll see you out,’ I say.
I drag him out the exit along the side of the garage. A pile of discarded car parts blocks the view to the town centre across the road.
‘What the fuck? Get off me, man.’
I let him shake himself out of my grasp. If he’s smart, he’ll start walking.
He’s not.
Alexander takes a swing, but he’s slow and I slip to the right, avoiding it. His own momentum sends him tumbling to the concrete, face first. His teeth turn crimson as he brings his hands up to cradle his face. I almost feel sorry for the fucker.
He gets up, brushing himself off. ‘I don’t have time for this shit.’
‘Well, you’re gonna make time, because I have a few questions.’
‘Fuck you,’ he spits.
‘Fuck me?’ I mouth, pointing at myself in disbelief. Plucking the cigarette from behind my ear, I light the end. The maggot shuffles on his feet, dumping his weight on the right to keep it off his busted knee. I believe in balance. Maybe I’d better even it out for him?
He pushes past me, puffing out his chest with a sour look over his face. ‘Fucking bitch.’
I snap. Using my forearm, I pin him against the wall. With my free hand, I grab his busted knee, gripping it tightly, making him scream. ‘You should probably be resting this knee.’
‘Ow! Fuck man, let go!’
‘What happened to your tough guy act?’
‘Jesus Christ, man. W-what do you w-want?’ he cries, his face twisted.
‘W-w-what I want,’ I mock, ‘is for you to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here.’
I take a puff of my cigarette, still waiting for an answer. I can see the cogs turning in his mind. Slowly.
‘Hurry up.’ I urge.
‘I … d-don’t know why. I was just told—’
Impatience gets the better of me. I dig my fingers in further, making him wince.
‘What the fuck—’
‘I’ll make it real simple for you. Two things.
One, you held a race last night and you involved Gianna, and whatever concerns her, concerns me.
’ I pause, enjoying how his eyes dart anywhere but on mine.
The thing about silence is that it makes people very uncomfortable, and I enjoy making him uncomfortable.
I lean in close, the movement causing him to jerk back in a hilarious show of fear.
‘And the second, we both know you’re not the brains behind this.
Who are you collecting money for? I want the name of who’s in charge. ’
Ash from my cigarette falls between his shirt and skin. The way he dances around trying to remove the hot ash pulls at my lips. I wait a moment for a response.
Two.
Three.
When I raise my fist, he’s finally quick to say, ‘Landon! His name’s Landon.’
‘And?’
‘And I have an address,’ Alexander sighs.
‘Give it to me.’
I pull out my phone and press it into his quivering hands. He punches in the address. ‘He’ll also be at the next Tropics,’ he mumbles. When he hands my phone back, I see an address in the same industrial area he’s been loitering around in Empire City.
‘This the chop shop?’
‘Midnight Spares,’ he hastily clarifies.
‘Midnight Spares,’ I repeat. ‘And why are you looking to repaint a pristine Porsche?’
‘Look, man,’ he pleads, desperation oozing from his pores. ‘I just do what I’m told. I owe him money and—’
‘Save it.’ I cut him off, impatience itching at my skin. I need to get to Midnight Spares and see it for myself. ‘I don’t care about your problems. One more thing.’ I turn away, walking back to the front of the garage. ‘You’ll stay away from the girl.’
‘Like I care about some pathetic pussy? She just needed to paint the car.’
My next step falters.
This fucker must have switched his brain to airplane mode. Red-hot rage surges through my head and heat consumes my insides. He’s really testing my patience.
I bide my time as I turn back toward him. Like a rat sensing danger, his eyes flicker before going round. Those slow cogs seem to kick into overdrive and his panicked gaze flickers behind me. I turn my head, taking in the ice grey Porsche 911 Turbo sitting pretty by the kerb.
Perfect.
‘And whose car is this?’ I ask, already walking toward it.
‘No, no!’ he screams, frantically limping in front of me. ‘Please don’t. Not the car.’
You’re kidding. He’s begging harder for his car right now than he did for himself.
‘Please, really. Erik would—’ He stops like he’s realised he’s said a name he shouldn’t have.
I grip his shirt, shaking him. ‘Erik? What about him?’
Alexander’s bottom lip quivers as he shakes his head. Tears and snot run down his face and I shake him again.
‘Tell me about Erik! Are you and Landon both working for him? Where is he?’ I demand, but Alexander just crumbles into a blubbering mess.
I release him. This revelation is too big. If Alexander is both working for Landon and involved with Erik, we’re closer than I thought. I charge over to the Porsche while Alexander blubbers behind me.
When I open the hood, I’m not surprised when I see Gianna was right: the VIN is scratched smooth.
‘Did she come out and check this?’ I ask.
He shakes his head.
Interesting. How did Gianna know the car wasn’t registered if she didn’t come out to get the VIN? That’s a problem for later. Right now, the maggot has exhausted his options. Amusement trickles through my frayed nerves as Alexander’s eyes dart around.
‘These are quite rare, no?’
‘Y-yeah. It’s limited edition. There are only twenty made with this engine.’
I whistle, walking around the vehicle.
He nods, not taking his fear-filled eyes off me. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I step forward, maybe getting rid of this maggot will send a message to Landon, Erik, and any other sorry fucker who tries to mess with Gianna.
‘Well.’ I smile brightly. ‘Don’t be rude, Alexander. Let’s take it for a spin.’