27. Byron
27
BYRON
W hen we pulled up to GenZ Za, Kevin told me to stay put while he first scoped out the place. I protested, but he shot me a wary glance.
“Listen,” he said, “if anything should happen to you while I’m on the job, that’s it for my career as a bodyguard. Steven O’Connor will make sure that I won’t be able to pet-sit a hamster. So, please bear with me here.”
While he was gone, I took the chance to glance across the street at my newly acquired building.
It was a small, two-story brick structure. The second floor housed a struggling three-person law firm, while the ground floor was split between two businesses, Pops’ Pizza Place and a vintage record store called Vinyl Heaven .
The building was long overdue for some renovations, I decided, and during that time, none of the businesses would need to pay rent.
Since we all knew how renovations could drag on, the building would be rent-free for at least a year. My real goal was that it would give Meg’s family a much-needed break. As well as the law firm and vintage record store.
At GenZ Za there was a sudden commotion, and the next thing I knew, the few customers, and likely servers, too, vacated the premises in a rush.
Only when he was happy the place was cleared out, did Kevin rap on the window of the Navigator, signaling to me that it was game on.
When I entered GenZ Za with Kevin muscling his way in behind me, Elio Ricks started to suspect that there was trouble brewing, judging from his beady little eyes widening with alarm.
“Hey now! What the hell’s going on!?”
He was behind the counter, and just the sight of him sparked a flare of fury in me, despite how unimpressive he seemed.
The nerve of this guy, the source of so much trouble for the minx. And once again, I was struck by how deeply the need for vengeance ran, all because of the wrongs done to Meg.
A pungent smell wafting through the air hit me.
While I wasn’t one for using recreational drugs, I’d been to enough wild parties to instantly recognize the sharp scent of weed. I sniffed deliberately, making sure it was clear to Ricks that I noticed.
The little sleaze threw his hands up in a feeble gesture of surrender. “Guys, guys, if this is about the bit of weed we sprinkle on our pizzas from the special menu, relax. It’s like oregano, just with a bit of a vibe.”
Kevin and I exchanged a look. We had not said a word, and already this guy admitted to drugging his customers. Hardly the brightest idea and a violation no less, which was just begging to get this place shut down.
“I take it you’re licensed to do that,” Kevin said to him rather than asking.
“Weed is legal dude, get with the times,” the dimwit volleyed back.
I snorted a laugh. "You know what they say, ignorance is bliss…until reality calls collect. And it’s coming to collect, believe me.”
“If you’re FBI, I wanna see your badges…or something,” Ricks whined.
If he wanted to believe we were FBI, who was I to convince him otherwise. It was time to get down to business and tell him what a huge mistake he’d made.
I looked him square in the eye. “My brother once told me there are two types of trouble,” I said. “One is the trouble you knowingly walk into, the kind you choose, the kind that comes with consequences you’re fully aware of. And then there’s the other trouble, the kind that just happens, that you never saw coming. What he also said is that it’s incredibly important to know the difference.”
Cocky little shit that he was, Ricks smirked. “You’re telling me this why.”
“Because you’re in trouble,” I told him. “Trouble that you knowingly chose to walk into. And all the times you’ve done it before, the consequences were not severe enough for you to learn anything. So, here’s the thing. Today you’re going to learn what real consequences are.”
The pissant was getting fidgety, nervous energy vibrating off him in waves. “I can stop doing the weed thing, man. You don’t have to be such a hardass about it.”
“Too late,” Kevin said as he excused himself and went outside to call the cops, his eyes on me the entire time. Not that I couldn’t take this little weasel on myself.
“What’s he doing? Who’s he calling?” Ricks shrieked.
His words were still floating in the air when Kevin joined us again, his bulk casting an intimidating shadow on the floor.
“You threatened to post a fake video of Megan Belfiore online,” Kevin barked, like a dog straining on his leash.
Realization slowly dawned on Ricks’ face. “The bitch that came in here thinking she could threaten me? That one? I wanted to scare her so she would know what it felt like. It meant nothing.”
This was where I wanted to grab the twit by his neck and slam him against the wall. But that was obviously not going to get me what I wanted. But staying calm was no easy feat.
“Can’t anyone take a joke anymore?” Ricks squealed as if that was the only explanation he needed to worm himself out of this mess.
“Manipulating a video and threatening to release it online is illegal and falls under extortion or cyber-harassment,” I told him. “Big words, I know, but in simple terms it just landed you in a world of shit.”
Then Kevin chimed in. “And since you’re on probation, the likelihood that this could get you prison time is now a very real possibility. So, there is that.”
“Who are you guys?” Ricks asked, looking from me to Kevin, genuine concern growing in his eyes.
Kevin folded his arms across his chest. “You don’t want to know.”
“Meg Belfiore sent us,” I gleefully added. “So, if we can get every phone or computer that video is on, we will decide what to do next.”
Tough guy that he was, Ricks folded his arms across his chest, too. “You don’t know who you’re messing with. My uncle is a cop, you know.”
“Maybe my brother knows him,” Kevin shot back lazily. “Is your uncle’s last name Ricks too?”
Suddenly Ricks dropped the act. “Okay, okay… I’ll give you the video, but I want to know that you won’t do anything about the weed thing.”
Kevin took a step closer to Ricks, his gaze unwavering. “You’re in no position to ask any favors. We don’t have all day. Let’s get this done before I start getting upset. Believe me, you don’t want to get me upset. And while we’re at it, I want the name of every person who was involved in manipulating the video.”
You had never seen anyone whip out a phone and a laptop so fast. “Only I have it, man. There’s an app where you can do shit to videos—"
Kevin happened to be tech savvy too, and within minutes, he’d permanently wiped the video from both devices. And just as quickly, he confirmed that the footage hadn’t been sent to anyone other than Meg.
Just to make his point, Kevin snapped the laptop in half. “That’s for messing with the Belfiore family business.” Then, for good measure, he shattered Ricks’ phone. “And that’s for trying to extort Meg Belfiore.”
This time, I stepped in closer to Ricks, my voice low. “If you ever so much as get within a mile of any member of the Belfiore family, today will be like a party in comparison. Do you understand?”
Ricks barely nodded, but he got the message loud and clear. “You gonna call the cops on me now?” he asked in a shrill voice.
As Kevin and I made our way out of GenZ Za, cop cars were pulling up.
Kevin glanced back at the little perp. “Oh, look, your uncle came by. Enjoy your time in jail.”
On our way back to Belmont Manor, I almost caved and texted the minx to say that her trouble with Elio Ricks was all in the past, but I resisted.
I wanted to savor the moment of watching her reaction when I told her face-to-face.