Chapter Seven #3
We reached the office door and the two thugs let me go first. I knew they’d follow me in, effectively blocking me from running out until Josiah’s business was concluded with me.
I felt super nervous as I spotted a gun tucked into the waistband of the guy holding the door for me.
I’d never noticed he’d been armed before, but that only made sense.
I didn’t normally look at their waistbands.
I just dropped off the car and went into the office to get my payment.
Of course, they were all armed. Josiah wasn’t the kind of guy who went into situations unarmed or his goons.
The night I’d first met him, he’d waved the fucking gun in my face, threatening to shoot me in the head.
It had taken Mars and Mickey catching me red-handed this morning to realize just how dangerous Josiah really was, and now I could think of nothing else.
I stopped in front of a big, metal desk, looking desperately around the room as Josiah leaned back in his creaky, desk chair.
He looked pissed and the butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I dragged my gaze away from his livid features and deliberately looked anywhere but right at him.
How could I possibly have forgotten the walls were like this?
The paint was peeling in long sheets off the wall and once again, beat myself up over my stupid choice of signal word.
I couldn’t very well ask him if he’d repainted the office when it looked this bad.
I’d completely fucked that up. I deserved to be shot.
If he decided to pull out a gun instead of an envelope full of money, I could use the signal word in a kind of sarcastic way, trying to make a joke. But if he really did have a gun pointed at my chest when I said it, he’d shoot me just for saying something that stupid. I was such a fucking idiot.
“Why the fuck didn’t you come inside?”
I swallowed hard as I realized his eyes were narrowed, looking suspiciously at me. I cleared my throat, shifting my weight from foot to foot. “Uh…no reason. Just admiring the car and I thought you might want to come out and see it.”
He frowned. “I do business inside. You know that.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m kind of proud of this one. It’s a bitchin car. I just thought you might want to see it right away.”
He drummed the fingers of one hand on the desk, making me wonder if he was holding a gun with the other hand.
Oh, shit, I was going to die. This was so stupid.
“No, I’ll see it later.” He looked past me at the two guys and I turned around.
They stood in front of the door with their arms crossed, glaring at me. “Did he bring me the Maybach?”
“Yeah, boss,” the more intimidating one said.
I turned around and grinned at Josiah. “The Maybach is what you asked for, so that’s what I brought.”
“Good.” He slowly nodded and then leaning forward in the chair, opened his desk drawer and pulled out a thick envelope. He held it out to me and gave me a pirate smile. It wasn’t a nice one. “Here you go, Cam.”
I stepped forward and took hold of the envelope, tugging, but he didn’t let go, just stared up at me with those creepy, glittering, dark eyes. “I-I…thanks.” I tugged again but he held on.
“Where did you find the Maybach?”
“In the parking lot at the Cosmopolitan…ya know…where the SKT restaurant is.” I’d heard it was one of the priciest restaurants in Vegas.
I could never imagine trying to eat there since it was like seven grand a table.
That’s what I’d overheard anyway. I’d been sitting at the bar at the Garage one night when two guys who’d obviously been a couple, had been talking about it.
That conversation had been good for my business too.
Josiah had a lot of guys just like me looking for cars in parking lots of expensive hotels the way I had last night; I figured scoping out exclusive restaurants would be a better place to look.
Josiah’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming under the low lights.
I squeezed the envelope, feeling nervous as hell as he watched me.
He was taking a long time. He never took this long, never questioned where I found cars.
Most of the time, he paid me, and I left.
I never stopped to count the money he gave me.
When he finally let go of the envelope, I nearly stumbled backward.
I stopped myself, quickly regaining my balance and taking a deep breath as I tried not to panic. I was about to have an anxiety attack.
“Everything okay, Cam?”
I jolted as Mars’ voice came through the earpiece. I raised my hand to touch my ear, instantly diverting it to my forehead to rub over it as I remembered not to make it obvious that I was wearing the earpiece.
Josiah’s eyes instantly narrowed as he pinned me with a suspicious glare. “Something wrong, Cam?”
“Hot,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat again, laying the back of my hand on my forehead as I sniffed. “I feel a little hot…think I’m coming down with something.”
Josiah’s expression flattened and it struck me for the first time that I was looking at someone who could be a straight up psychopath.
If he really was as dangerous as I thought, he could very easily be responsible for killing guys.
Though I couldn’t be sure about it, there had been guys who’d just up and disappeared.
They might have moved away, but now I was beginning to doubt it.
Most of us serious car thieves knew all the other thieves in town. Vegas wasn’t a big place.
It was busy because it was a tourist mecca.
Still, most of the guys in my line of work knew each other.
We usually steered clear of each other. But some guys—guys who were really good at what they did—were here one week and then gone the next.
Maybe Josiah was killing off my competition.
Maybe he’d done it when he’d found out they were working with the FBI.
My heart started pounding all over again, leaving me breathless.
I just wanted to get the hell out of his office.
He finally leaned back in his chair, and it squeaked loudly in protest. “Maybe you’d better go home and sleep it off then.”
I nodded quickly, bobbing my head like a fucking idiot as I stared at him. “Y-yeah.”
“You seem nervous, Cam,” he said. “I couldn’t help but notice.”
I glanced around quickly at the peeling paint. “Nervous, no. Just not feeling great, Josiah. It took me two whole days to find the fucking vehicle and now all I wanna do is go home and have some chicken soup.”
He smiled and rose to his full height. “Well, you should do that then.” Strangely, he reached across the desk, holding out his hand like he was offering me a fist bump. It didn’t have a gun in it and for that, I was grateful. I quickly reached out and tapped his knuckles. Thanks COVID.