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“And don’t even think about running. Your cards are marked. One more step out of line and I won’t hesitate to pay you another visit. Understand?”
“I u–understand,” he mumbles, moving away to collect the strewn recipe books and placing them back into the box he’d dumped them out of. I watch him as he works, using all of my willpower not to go back on my word and cave his head in with the crowbar.
As soon as he’s finished, he steps back into his workshop, eyes wide with fear. “I’m truly sorry.”
I shake my head, my lip curling up in disgust. “No, you’re just sorry you got caught, and the only reason you’re still breathing is because I ain’t willing to fuck up a good thing for your sorry arse.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Don’t get fucking comfortable, Fraser. No more shit. Get a real job, tidy yourself up, and stay the fuck away from Robert’s guests when they arrive in town for his wedding next month.”
“You have my word.”
“Your word means shit to me. I’ll have my people watching you very closely. Stay out of fucking trouble,” I growl, stepping towards him menacingly.
“I will. I swear it,” he replies, backing up.
“Your parents are good people, and I don’t want to be the one to tell them you died after getting into an accident. Catch my drift?”
“I swear to you, this is the last time. I’m done with all that shit.”
I nod tightly. “Get rid of this mess.” With that I yank open the door, and stride towards my car. Ten minutes later I’m pulling up to Bandits.
“What’s the deal, Drix?” Ben asks me as I sit at the table my friends are gathered around in the back of the bar. We’ve got about thirty minutes before he opens the doors for the punters, and I need time to fucking vent.
“I just paid a visit to Fraser,” I explain, taking a gulp of the black coffee Ben had waiting for me after I called him on the drive over and told him to gather the others. Honestly, I could do with a stiff drink like the rest of them, but I’ve got to drive home, and I don’t want to be stinking of alcohol. That’s not the kind of impression I want to give Lia. I like a drink when the occasion calls for it, but now is not the time. I need to calm the fuck down, not get drunk.
“Yeah, how did that go?” Sterling asks, sitting forward in his seat as he pulls back the hood of his sweater, his thick brown hair falling into his light blue eyes. It’s the first thing everyone notices about him, followed quickly by the fact that his hands are always covered in paint. As a gifted artist, it’s unsurprising. At least for him it’s not blood.
“He had a car pulled apart in his workshop, ready to sell on for parts,” I say, looking between my friends in turn.
Dalton raises his brow. “Why am I not surprised?”
“That dude needs his head checked. Carl and Robert are this close to forfeiting his right to breathe,” Ben says, pinching his thumb and forefinger together, leaving just a slither of space between them.
“Believe me, I was that close to caving his head in,” I grind out, part of me wishing I had.
It’s one thing me giving the fucker a second chance for the sake of Lia and Toby, but I have a reputation to uphold, and if word gets out I’ve gone soft, there could be repercussions for all of the families.
“Then why didn’t you?” Sterling asks. “No one would’ve missed the vermin.”
“Because it was Lia’s car he stole,” I reply, my voice constricting with concern. “She’ll be fucking devastated when I tell her.”
“The woman you picked up here, the one who’s staying with you?” Ben asks, letting out a low whistle.
“The woman I helped,” I correct him. “She’s not a fucking booty call.”
Ben and Sterling exchange looks, but wisely don’t say anything.
“And you said you didn’t kill him?” Dalton adds, looking at me with surprise. “What gives?”
“I didn’t for precisely the reason you think I should've. I need Lia and Toby to trust me, they ain’t got no one else to look out for them.”
Dalton cocks his head. “You need to?”
“I want them to trust me. They mean something to me.”
“Drix, you’re playing with fire here,” Dalton warns. “You know she comes with baggage, and I’m not just talking about her kid.”
