Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
From the texts of Christian McGuire
and Matty McGuire
11:15 p.m. Monday Night
MATTY: Christian? Are you up? Chris? I need you to get back to me right away. We have a problem. A very SERIOUS problem. Call me. Now.
Five minutes later…
MATTY: Christian! Dude. Now is not the time to stop answering your texts. Please, call me as soon as you get this. I’m not kidding. I need to talk to you ASAP.
Three minutes later…
V OICEMAIL MESSAGE FROM MATTY MCGUIRE: Christian, pick up. Pick up, man. Fuck. This isn’t the kind of thing I want to leave in a voicemail. *indistinct muttering* *soft cursing* We have a serious situation on our hands, Chris, and by “we,” I mean you.
It’s bad, Chris.
Really bad.
It’s too late to put the genie back in the bottle, but we can at least get ready to run damage control when the shit hits the fan tomorrow. Mom’s going to lose it. Barrett, too. Fuck, he’s really going to lose it. He’s so protective of Starling. We might have to put you in the witness protection program or something until the worst blows over.
*more indistinct muttering*
*more soft cursing*
Please, Chris, call me.
And if you already know what’s happened…don’t do anything crazy.
Yes, the situation sucks, it sucks hard, but you’re not the first person to have something like this happen and sadly, you won’t be the last. Lashing out at those responsible or any other act of violence or revenge isn’t the answer. We should let the authorities handle this.
Not saying the jerk doesn’t deserve to have his liver yanked out through his nostrils or whatever, but I have zero interest in visiting you in prison. The food sucks and even you won’t look good under that much fluorescent lighting.
*heavy sigh*
Okay. Call me when you get this.
Please. I want to be there for you, brother. I’m so sorry.
Ten minutes later…
CHRISTIAN: Jesus Christ, Matty, what’s wrong? I just finished listening to your voicemail! Did someone die? Did I die, and I just haven’t realized it yet?
MATTY: Can you talk? This will go faster on the phone.
CHRISTIAN: I can’t. I’m at a friend’s house and I don’t want to wake them up. They were really upset about something, so I slept over to offer moral support. I wouldn’t have realized you called except Bella managed to push through the bedroom door, crawl in bed with me, and start licking my face. When I was putting her in the bathroom, I noticed the messages.
MATTY: You can drop the “they” stuff, Chris. I know who you’re with. You might as well wake Starling up, too. She’s a smart cookie and an expert in schmoozing and public relations stuff. She’ll be able to come up with a better plan than we’ll be able to whip up alone.
And this involves her, too.
CHRISTIAN: What are you talking about? I tried to read between the lines in the voicemail, but I was still half asleep. Did someone find out Starling and I were seeing each other and get upset about it or something? Did they tell Barrett?
MATTY: Chris, someone leaked your tape.
CHRISTIAN: What tape?
Oh…shit.
You mean…
MATTY: From the bike shop. Starling’s in a fancy dress and you’re wearing a very unfortunate ruffled shirt until you’re not wearing anything. It’s all over the internet.
CHRISTIAN: FUCK!
MATTY: Yep. Exactly.
CHRISTIAN: It’s not funny Matty! Fuck! That was never supposed to be seen by anyone. Ever!
MATTY: I figured. That’s what I told my friend in the Cyber Division at the FBI. He’s sending takedown notices for us, but getting it taken down in the U.S. will take time and with the overseas sites, it’s a kind of a crapshoot, honestly. It all depends on whether or not the person running the site is having a compassionate moment and usually they aren’t. With those hosts, we might never get it taken down. It will likely be available for viewing in some capacity in perpetuity.
CHRISTIAN: I don’t know which part of that to address first—the part where my bad boy brother has a friend in the FBI or the fact that my private life is going to be online forever or the fact that you know the word perpetuity—but you don’t get it, Matty.
I’VE never even seen the tape. Neither has Starling.
I recorded it by accident. I put a nanny cam in the shop to catch whoever’s up to no good in there after hours and forgot it was in there when Starling and I decided to go there after the Ren Faire.
MATTY: Shit. I’m even more sorry, Chris. If it’s any comfort, what I saw of it—what LITTLE I saw, because I respect your privacy—wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. You’re two beautiful people doing a perfectly natural thing. The role-playing was a little weird, but fun, and you can tell how much you care about each other.
CHRISTIAN: FUCK YOU.
MATTY: Hey! Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m trying to help. We just need to calm down and move into problem solving mode.
CHRISTIAN: I can’t talk about this with you. Not yet. I have to tell Starling.
FUCK!
I can’t tell Starling. It might break her.
MATTY: I think she’s stronger than you give her credit for, man. Remember that social media thing from earlier in the summer? You gave her hell about taking down those memes, the ones where it looked like you were checking out that bulldog’s ass, but she didn’t. She didn’t waiver for a second, even when you started posting anonymous comments saying the pictures where in “poor taste.”
CHRISTIAN: That wasn’t me.
MATTY: Sure, it wasn’t.
CHRISTIAN: It was a few of my friends from the bachelorette party stuff. I asked them to do me a favor since I did them a solid when they were in need of pre-wedding-day entertainment.
But I’m not kidding about Starling. She’s not okay right now.
Kyle ran off earlier tonight. That’s why I’m sleeping over. She’s crazy upset. She loves that stupid turkey. And this is going to be a much bigger deal for her, man. Don’t tell anyone, but that was her first time.
MATTY: Shit. So that wasn’t just part of the role-playing?
CHRISTIAN: NO! AND HOW MUCH OF IT DID YOU WATCH?
MATTY: NOT MUCH, I PROMISE! RELAX!
CHRISTIAN: I CAN’T RELAX! I knew this was a bad idea. I knew someone was going to get hurt. I thought it would be me because I was going to fail at keeping things casual.
Fuck, I wish it were me.
I’d do anything to make this go away for her.
She’s never going to forgive me.
I’M never going to forgive me.
MATTY: Of course, she will. Just remind her how much you love her. With love on your side, you can get through anything, right? Isn’t that what the wise people say?
CHRISTIAN: We don’t say that kind of shit to each other. This was supposed to be casual. Just a month or so of fun until I move out of town and then we’d pretend it never happened.
I don’t have anything to offer her to make this better. I feel so damned helpless. How did this even happen? I was the only one who was supposed to have access to that footage.
MATTY: I’m guessing someone hacked your nanny cam account. We should know more in a few days. My friend in the Cyber Division promised he’d move this to the top of his list.
CHRISTIAN: That’s still weird, and I want to know when and how you met this “friend,” eventually. But right now, I’m more worried about who did this. Do you think one of the guys at the shop found the camera?
MATTY: That’s my guess. Though…not to be a dick, but I’m honestly shocked anyone at your shop had the skills to hack your account. Unless you used the same username and password on the nanny cam account that you use for inventory or something at the shop.
Something those guys would have access to.
But you wouldn’t do that, right? You know how important it is to have different, secure passwords for all the sites you use.
CHRISTIAN: I hate myself.
MATTY: Shit.
CHRISTIAN: Yeah. I’m an idiot. Huge idiot. Biggest idiot ever.
MATTY: No, you’re not. This isn’t your fault. You wouldn’t have had to worry about this if the people you trusted hadn’t betrayed you. You’ve treated those guys so well. From the get-go. You should have had their loyalty.
CHRISTIAN: But I didn’t. I decided to sell the shop and they turned on me. I did one thing they didn’t like, and all the loyalty was out the window. Just like with Ashland.
MATTY: Ashland was a very specific case of a narcissist with borderline personality disorder. Not that I’m claiming to be a psychiatrist, but even a kid with a high school psych class could have diagnosed that woman. And these guys are a very specific case of being gearhead assholes who are jealous that you own the shop and are moving on to better things and they’re still mechanics working for someone else.
CHRISTIAN: But most of them know I built the shop from the ground up. I earned the down payment working construction during the summers in high school and killed myself those first two years before I could afford to hire Gage full time. Sometimes, I’d end up working twelve hours days, twelve days in a row. It’s not like my rich parents handed me the shop or something.
MATTY: They don’t care. People like that, people who want to justify their bad behavior, will always find an excuse. Bottom line, you did nothing to deserve it, and we’ll work together to minimize the impact on you, Starling, and the family.
I mean, assuming you want my help. I don’t want to be like Mom, sticking my nose in where I’m not wanted.
If you want me to back off and stay out of it, I will.
CHRISTIAN: No, I’d appreciate your help. And your friend’s help. I’m clearly not the most tech savvy person. I can use all the cyber expertise I can get. Can I meet you somewhere now? To talk things over in person? I don’t want to wake Starling until I have a plan. She could use the rest and she’s planning to get up early anyway, to go look for Kyle before work.
As long as I’m here to talk through things when she wakes up, we should be fine. She has her ringer on silent at night, and I seriously doubt any of her friends are going to come across our sex tape and try to make contact at this hour.
Which reminds me…
How did you come across it?
How did you find out about all this before I did?
MATTY: The same connections that tipped me off that someone was using your place as an after-hours chop shop gave me a heads-up. He said one of the guys was joking about it and he overheard. Guess they got a decent amount of money from whatever distributor he sold it to originally. Since you and Starling are so…photogenic and all.
CHRISTIAN: I’m going to kill this guy. Give me a name. I’ll make it look like an accident. I promise.
MATTY: Not a chance in hell. That’s not who you are, though I can totally understand the impulse right now. I’d want to beat the shit out of someone if they’d done the same to me. Especially with a girl I cared about as much as you do Starling.
CHRISTIAN: I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, Matty.
MATTY: Of course, you are. She’s cool, gorgeous, badass, and perfect for you. Another good reason to stay out of jail. It’ll be much harder to finish winning her over if you’re spending life behind bars.
CHRISTIAN: I can’t think about that now. I have to make this better first. If I can’t do that, I don’t deserve her.
MATTY: Not sure I agree, but let’s meet up and talk in person. Your place in…fifteen? I’d offer mine, but the house is a wreck from all the renovations. Trying to get top dollar for it when I put it up for sale in a month or so and my projects are getting out of hand.
CHRISTIAN: Sure, I’ll see you there. And thanks, Matty. I appreciate the heads-up and your help. If this had to happen, I’m glad it happened with someone like you in my corner. I’m sorry I’ve been giving you such a hard time lately. Clearly, you have your shit together every bit as much—or more—than I do.
MATTY: No worries, man. I understand where you were coming from, too. I know my life choices can seem a little out there sometimes, and that you bitch because you love me and fret over my safety like a little blue-haired grandma who watches too many drug cartel documentaries. It’s cool. We’re cool. See you soon. I’ll grab coffee on the way.
CHRISTIAN: Thanks. I’m definitely going to need it.
Christian
W hile Matty’s grabbing coffee, I decide to swing by the shop and grab the nanny cam. I can see if it’s been moved, take possession of the damn thing, and slap a padlock on the garage door while I’m at it.
I’ll have to wait until morning to call someone to go change the locks, but I’ll feel better knowing no one can move anything larger than a person in or out of the shop until I get to the bottom of this.
If whoever did this is ballsy enough to leak my private life online and brag about it to the other guys in the shop, he might be bold enough to steal inventory on the way out. And I have way too many valuable vintage bikes in storage in the back to run the risk of continuing to give the person who betrayed me another second of my trust.
I expect the errand to take a few minutes, but when I pull down the road leading to the shop, I see lights on in the back.
Maybe the guys just forgot to turn them off when they closed up tonight, but until I know for sure, I don’t intend to take any chances.
Pulling over to the shoulder, I shut off my lights and grab a flashlight from the glove compartment. I shut the door as quietly as I can and wait a moment for my eyes to adjust to the near-complete darkness. The shop is at the end of a gravel road just outside of town. There’s nothing nearby except a furniture manufacturing warehouse farther down the road and an abandoned train depot building I’ve been tossing around the idea of buying for a few years.
The old structure is a gorgeous piece of 1930s architecture, but it would be a complete gut job, and I’m not sure what I would do with it once I was finished. Bad Dog is growing, but not fast enough for this area to be anything but the outskirts of town for at least another ten or twenty years. Deep down, I’ve always sensed I wouldn’t be here that long. I love my hometown and being surrounded by friends and family, but I want to expand my horizons. I don’t want to head off into the great unknown like Matty, but the move to Minneapolis and a big job change feels right.
Or it did…until recently.
Until Starling.
Now, I think I could be happy doing just about anything for work, as long as I got to come home to her every night. But the asshole who violated our privacy put the nail in that dream’s coffin. Starling probably won’t want to be seen in public with me after all this, let alone consider settling down and making a life together.
As I creep up to the shop window in the dark, I’m thinking about Starling and all the ways I’d do things differently if I could turn back time. I’m not as focused as I should be.
But in my defense, I don’t expect anyone to be there, let alone on lookout. I’m still operating from the na?ve assumption that I have one bad egg on my hands and that the chop shop stuff is a small potatoes operation that will be easy to shut down.
I’m about to find out how wrong I am about that.
I barely have time to glance through the window—or register the fact that both Gage and Norman, two of my most trusted employees, are busy loading my collection of antique bikes into a trailer parked at the front of the shop—when I hear footsteps behind me.
I start to turn, but before I make it all the way around, something comes down hard on my head. Pain explodes behind my eyes, filling the world with fireworks for a beat before the world goes dark.