Chapter 18 Maya
EIGHTEEN
MAYA
I stood in front of the restaurant and drew in a deep breath.
Despite my promise to Notch, I had to come see my brother.
Not because wanted to, but because if I refused, it would look suspicious at this point.
I knew if I didn’t go to him, he’d come to me.
And I couldn’t risk Notch being at my place when my brother decided to drive up unannounced.
I drew in a deep breath and walked inside.
I was nervous. Very nervous. My brother had called only minutes after Notch left the shop, and something in the pit of my gut told me he knew Notch had been there.
Someone had been watching, and I wondered what all they saw.
What all they heard.
My brother sat in the corner, but he had twice the number of armed goons sitting in booths around the chairs.
I sighed as I approached him, watching my brother pin me with his beady, black little eyes.
I sat down, and a water was promptly dropped in front of me.
But I was paranoid. Instead, I ordered myself a glass of wine, knowing that if someone dropped anything into it, I could easily smell it. Easily see it.
“Anything you want to tell me?” Harry asked.
Fuck. Holy shit, he knew. Which meant it would be bad if I lied. I was a shit liar, and he would know immediately. And I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.
Just like he hadn’t hesitated to kill our parents.
“I think this Lost Boys guy was at the shop when you were there earlier,” I said.
“He was there, wasn’t he?” Harry asked.
I nodded slowly. “He came in a few minutes after I chased you off.”
“Uh-huh. And what did Notch have to say for himself?”
I paused. “Notch?”
Harry grinned. “Yes. Notch.”
This was bad. How the hell was I supposed to get out of this?
“He probably told you his name was ‘Max’, but it’s not. His name is ‘Notch’. Or so his crew calls him,” Harry said.
“Max,” I said softly.
Somehow, it suited him. Though not as much as Notch.
I was fond of calling him Notch.
“What did he tell you while he was there?” Harry asked.
I cleared my throat as the wine touched down in front of me.
“He was murmuring nonsense, honestly. He looked kind of shaken. I tried to get him to talk, but he kept talking about having to get out of town. Needing to settle his tab with my shop. Being watched,” I said.
Harry nodded slowly. “Did he say anything about a group called the Celtic Riders?”
“Uh, not really. I don’t think so, at least. He was talking pretty quickly. Said something about getting out of town? Maybe they’re getting out of town with that crew?”
“Impossible,” he said, chuckling.
I shrugged. “Well, I tried helping.”
“Not enough,” he said flatly.
I didn’t like the tone of his voice.
“Look, I called you. Remember? I gave you what I knew, and when you called saying you wanted to meet, I figured it was because someone had seen that man come into my shop. Which means you’ve got men stationed around watching me even though I told you not to.
The man was up in arms when he came into my shop.
Mostly to settle his tab. He was babbling on about leaving town and how he had to pay me now, so I let him pay.
I’ve got my own business I’m running. All I did was do you a courtesy of reaching out,” I said.
“A courtesy, huh? Well, did Notch do you the courtesy of letting you know that we’ve got police on our side?” he asked.
Wait. Was Harry talking about the detective Notch mentioned? The one that had the thing against motorcycle gangs? Either way, this was something I could use to turn the tables and get my ass out of here.
Time to test your lying skills.
“No. But, he did do me the courtesy of telling me a specific detective is on their side now. Something about interests being aligned,” I said.
I watched Harry’s face fall, and I knew it struck a nerve. I logged the information away, knowing I’d call Notch later to figure out what the hell was going on. Specifically, who this detective was and how he was related to the gang other than his general dislike for them.
“What?” Harry growled.
He slowly stood up, and I mocked his movements, not wanting to be caught off-guard.
“How the fuck do you know about the detective?” he asked.
“Harry, I do tattoos for a living. I know things I’m not supposed to because people usually talk to get rid of focusing on the pain. I know everyone’s greatest secrets,” I said.
I eyed him hotly, hoping damn good and well he could read my mind.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt now that he had killed our parents.
Especially with how he postured above me.
I sucked air through my teeth as he clenched his fists.
The men slowly stood from the booths, surrounding us as the kitchen staff quickly disappeared.
Then, Harry held up his hand, telling everyone to back off.
“People talk when a needle is punching their skin,” I said flatly.
“Maya, if you are fucking lying to me—”
“What? You’ll deal with me the way you dealt with Mom and Dad?” I asked.
I knew I shouldn’t have said it, but there it was. And the look on his face broke my heart. It confirmed my greatest fears. It confirmed every nightmare I’d had since all of this shit fell into my lap. I stayed strong on my feet, but inside I was dying.
Maybe dying wouldn’t be such a bad release from the hell my life had turned into.
“Yes. I’ll deal with you,” Harry said plainly.
“That mean you’re going to kill me too?” I asked.
“No. Much worse. That means I’ve got places to put you where you’ll have no way out. Places where you’ll wish you were dead. Places where people will buy you just to teach you a lesson about keeping your fucking mouth shut on shit you don’t understand.”
“Did—you say, ‘buy me?’” I asked.
“Don’t you dare speak about things you don’t understand, and don’t you dare think you’re speaking about things you’re knowledgeable about. If there’s one issue you’ve always had, it’s keeping your mouth shut at prime time. You’ve exposed yourself, Maya, and I’ll be coming for you,” he said.
He spat at the table, hitting it directly into my wine glass.
Time stood still around me as he drew the weapon off his hip.
He pointed the gun at me, and my life flashed before my eyes.
I saw my parents. I saw the backyard where Harry and I used to run around playing tag.
I saw the crime scene photos taken after my parents had been slaughtered, and I saw the gate terminal for when I got off the plane to San Diego.
Then, I saw Notch.
I saw the whole of Notch as my brother thrust a gun into my face.
“Get the fuck out of here, and don’t you ever look in my direction again,” Harry glowered.
I let out the breath I was holding as the gun lowered back to his side.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“Ten,” Harry said.
“Harry, what—”
“Nine.”
“I don’t—”
“Eight!” he exclaimed.
“Harry!”
“We’ll be watching, sister of mine,” he warned.
I stumbled over the chair and sprinted away from the restaurant. I had finally seen my brother for who he was. A monster. A carcass of the boy I’d grown up with. His voice echoed out of the doors, counting down to six. Five. Four.
I threw myself into my beat-up car and cranked it up as I watched my brother exit the restaurant.
I threw myself into reverse, backing out as quickly as I could.
Then, I sped off down the road. A few gunshots popped off, and I tried to keep control of my car.
I peeked back in the rearview mirror, watching as my brother stood out there on the curb.
I saw him hold up his phone, taking a picture of my damn car.
And that told me everything I need to know.
I needed to close down my life and go somewhere else.
Somewhere that monster really couldn’t find me.