Chapter 2
KREED
The second my brothers and I stepped through the weathered door of Viper’s Auto Pro, the scent washed over me, thick grease coating every surface, burnt oil that had seeped into the concrete decades ago, rust eating away at everything metal, and the ghost of countless cigarettes smoked in this tomb of machinery.
Kaylor’s father’s shop was the kind of place that crawled under your skin and left grit between your teeth for days.
The bell above the front door gave a weak, discordant jangle, its brass surface tarnished black.
There was no one in the lobby to greet us, so I wandered toward the clatter coming from down the hall and into the garage.
I didn’t wait to see if my brothers followed.
The asshole who had picked up Kaylor from school the other day, Jesse, I remembered she had called him, looked up from under the dented hood of a beat-up Chevy that had seen better decades, his face smeared with fresh grease.
A socket wrench gleamed in his oil-blackened fingers, and for a split second, his expression was nothing more than mild curiosity.
Wrong fucking place at the wrong fucking time.
I didn’t waste breath on words. The distance between us disappeared in three long strides, and I slammed him against the nearest wall, rattling every tool hanging from its pegboard.
One hand twisted into the front of his stained work shirt while the other found his throat and pressed just hard enough to make breathing an effort.
His back connected with the corrugated metal wall with a hollow thud.
“Where the fuck is your old man?” I demanded, forgoing all pleasantries.
Jesse’s eyes went wide for half a heartbeat, genuine shock flickering across his features before his muscles coiled and he shoved hard against my restraining arm. “What the hell? I don’t fucking know!”
“Bullshit,” I snarled, bringing my face close, breath hot against his skin.
“You expect me to believe you just happened to show up for another normal day at work and Daddy’s conveniently missing in action?
Who, I might add, stole this fucking place by killing his best friend.
” I wanted to see his reaction, gauge how much he knew, how deep he was involved in his father’s shady dealings.
“I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon,” he snapped back, his voice tight with strain and growing anger.
A vein pulsed visibly at his temple. “He didn’t come in this morning, didn’t call, didn’t leave a fucking note.
I’ve been trying to reach him for hours.
And in case you haven’t figured it out, the old man and I don’t exactly have a loving father-son dynamic. ”
Behind me, Raine’s voice cut through the tension. “Is that normal behavior, Jesse? For your devoted father to just vanish without opening the shop?” The snap of his pocketknife springing open echoed through the garage.
Jesse’s jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth. “No. It’s fucking not.”
That was all the confirmation I needed.
“Maybe you need some motivation to remember better.” I drew my fist back and drove it into his solar plexus.
He folded, a grunt forced expelled from his lungs as all the air left his body at once. His hands dropped to his knees as I released my hold, and he crumpled forward, wheezing like a dying engine trying to turn over. Between ragged breaths, he managed to cough out, “You fuckin’ psycho.”
“Yeah?” I crouched down beside his hunched form.
“I’ve been called worse, but you know I’m not playing games here.
So here’s exactly what’s going to happen…
Maddox,” I barked without turning around, my eyes never leaving Jesse’s bent form.
“Search every inch of this shithole. Tear it apart if you have to. There’s got to be something here…
files, receipts, a fucking phone number, something that’ll tell us where Rusty’s keeping her. Take Mason with you. Raine—”
“I got the office,” he volunteered, knowing all too well how this went.
They split up. Raine’s silhouette disappeared down the hallway, leading to what passed for an office in this dump, while Mason and Maddox took the rest of the shop.
I had just refocused my energy on Jesse when the metal side door creaked open. Completely oblivious as to what they walked into, this newcomer came to a confused halt at seeing me and then zeroing in on Jesse as he shoved to his feet, slumping against the wall. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out.” Jesse coughed, slowly straightening as his breathing returned to normal. “You should probably get out of here, Theo.”
“Theo, huh?” I echoed. “Don’t fucking move.”
Maddox reappeared in the doorway, and a grin crawled across his pale features. “I got this one,” he said, crossing the garage in smooth strides, grabbing the newcomer by the collar and hauling him back outside.
Jesse’s slitted gaze pinned mine. “What the fuck are you even talking about? Who’s keeping Kaylor? Where is she?”
The question ignited volcanic fire in my chest. I grabbed him by the front of his shirt again, this time slamming him sideways into the workbench.
Wrenches and screwdrivers clanged to the ground.
His breath caught in a sharp hiss as I pressed my forearm across his windpipe.
“If you’re playing games with me right now,” I began, dropping my voice to barely above a whisper but undeniably threatening, “then the only way you’re leaving this greasy-ass shop is in a goddamn body bag. ”
He actually had the balls to smirk even with my arm crushing his throat. “You ever think about working on those anger management issues? Might help you live longer.”
My jaw ticked once, the only external sign of the rage building pressure behind my sternum.
“Tell me where Rusty is,” I growled. “Right fucking now. You give me something useful, and maybe no one else gets permanently hurt today.” I leaned in close enough that he could see every fleck of violence in my eyes.
“But I can’t promise the same mercy for you.
” I let that threat hang in the air between us.
“That part depends entirely on how truthful your answers turn out to be.”
His eyes finally flickered, genuine fear bleeding through the bravado or maybe just the dawning recognition that I wasn’t making idle threats.
Good.
Because I meant every word, and Jesse was about to learn exactly what happened to people who stood between me and what belonged to me.
Jesse held up his hands. “I don’t know anything. I swear. But if Kaylor’s in trouble, tell me how I can help.”
“Fuck,” I seethed, shoving away from him before I beat him unconscious. “Your father took something from me, and I want her back.”
Jesse flinched. “Kaylor? You think he took her?”
“He did. That’s not the question. I want to know where he would take her. Does he have any other property besides your house?”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head.
I paced the perimeter of the shop, Jesse remaining in my peripheral vision, his back pressed against the wall, one hand still clutched protectively over his ribs where my fist had found its mark.
The minutes crawled by with agonizing slowness as I waited to see if Mason, Maddox, or Raine had better luck.
Finally, my brothers returned from their search.
Maddox appeared first, a scowl carved so deep into his features.
He shook his head before I could even form the question burning on my tongue.
His pale green eyes held nothing but frustration and grim confirmation.
“Clean,” he muttered, wiping dust from his hands on his dark jeans. “Too fucking clean.”
Raine appeared next, leaning against the workbench frame. He shook his head. “Nothing at first glance, but it’s going to take longer to go through his computer. Despite the condition of this place, they’re using decent equipment. Most of their business seems to be digital.”
That could be a good or bad thing.
Mason emerged behind Maddox. His hands hung loose at his sides.
“Not a single goddamn note,” he reported, his voice flat with disgust. “No burner phone, no ledgers tucked behind fake walls, no hidden drives taped under desk drawers. Hell, not even a receipt with a suspicious address scribbled on the back.”
Raine uncrossed his arms and let out a long, weary sigh. “Either Rusty’s more paranoid than a meth head with government conspiracy theories, or he’s got professional help cleaning up behind him.”
It shouldn’t have been a surprise that the shop was clean. Kaylor’s father wouldn’t have been so careless to have crew dealings bleed into his business, but I’d hoped Rusty wasn’t as smart.
My gaze drifted back to Jesse. The bruises starting to bloom purple and black weren’t nearly enough to satisfy the storm of fury raging inside my chest. Not even close to adequate payment for what his father had taken from me.
“Rusty’s involved,” I said. “Maybe he’s not sitting at the head of the table making executive decisions. Maybe there’s someone above him in the chain, someone pulling his strings, but he’s not just grunt labor. We need to get into his house.”
Maddox nodded, his expression grim. “You want to break in?”