“Good-fucking-night, Psycho,” I said, slamming the door behind me.
She spent every day unknowingly pushing me closer to that line. I knew she didn’t actually want me to cross it, she only liked to push boundaries when she could. She was always thinking of a thousand ways to destroy my life, and the worst part was, I’d let her.
Because the only thing worse than Evie ruining my life would be not having her in it.
I swung off my Ducati, parking at the back of the shop. The black Panigale V4 caught the morning sun, carbon-blue accents flashing perfectly. She was the main love of my life these days.
Not that competition was fierce.
Maverick Moto had been up and running at our new location for two months now—after our last place burned down—and it seemed to be running perfectly.
Up front, during the day, we ran a fully legal, upstanding motorcycle shop.
And the large garage in the back could handle any illegal business at night, uninterrupted.
Our black-market business put us in the orbit of the city’s most dangerous players. We weren’t just investigators—we were the ones they called when they couldn’t go to the cops. A stolen drug shipment? We found it. A rival robbed your chop shop? We tracked them down and made them wish they hadn’t. We were the fixers, the informants, the hunters. Whatever they needed, we handled. It was where we made most of our money—and the one line of work we all agreed we weren’t giving up.
“Hey,” Rook said, weaving through the maze of bikes to me. “Have you had any issues with Cross’s guys the past few days?”
“Cross?” I frowned, shaking my head. Cross, one of the reigning drug lords of Valeport, was definitely not a fan of ours—even less of a fan since Rook killed one of his cousins for touching Regan. “No. I haven’t heard anything from him or his guys. Why? Something happen?”
Rook’s jaw tightened, his eyebrows furrowing. “I had a weird encounter with one of them today. He stopped me and asked if I knew a guy named Anderson.”
“Is that a first name or a last name?”
“Fuck if I know. He didn’t elaborate after I told him it would cost him to know the answer.”
I laughed, walking with him as we headed to the front of the shop. “And he didn’t tell you anything more?”
“I think he got pissed I wasn’t willing to cooperate right away. But I don’t get why they think we owe them any favors. We have no loyalty, no debts—nothing we would owe them in exchange for information.”
“So, what’s the problem? You think they’re up to something?”
“I think it’s an issue if Cross’s guys feel comfortable enough to come right up to me to ask questions.” Rook’s voice was laced with irritation.
“Yeah, that raises some concerns,” I replied. “What do you want to do about it? Wait it out, or look into who Anderson is?”
“Both. I’ll get Evie to dig around and see if she can find anything on him. If Anderson’s screwing with Cross or any other major player around here, it would be our job to know.”
I hated the way my stomach churned at Evie’s name.
“I’ll ask Evie.” Rook cocked an eyebrow, and I was quick to add more. “I’ve got a few other things I need updates on from her, anyway.”
“Perfect. I have to go pick Regan up. She’s down at Sweet Haven Cafe today.”
“She’s always trying to find somewhere away from you to get her work done. You really should be concerned,” I said, keeping my face straight.
“Ha. Ha.The only reason she needs to get away from me is because she doesn’t get work done when I’m around.” He grinned, heading to his bike. “Why don’t you concern yourself with your own love life?”
I only shook my head. The irony is I was heading right toward his sister, who somehow took over my entire love life without even being a part of it. A love life she couldn’t be a part of because I followed the rules. Rook made the rules we agreed to live by early on, and one of them had been made clear to me—Evie would always be off-limits.
I pushed open the door to Evie’s small office, tucked off to the side of the shop bays. I skipped any polite knocks, and her eyebrow lifted, but she didn’t look up. The office had four realwalls—private enough for her—but the top halves were glass. It gave me enough of a view to watch her all day while I worked on bikes.
A blessing and a curse.
“Do you barge in everywhere? Ever heard of privacy?” she said, not looking away from her computer. Her focus stayed on the computer, fingers flying over the keyboard as lines of code scrolled across the screen. For someone who lived to create chaos, she was terrifyingly efficient when it came to anything computer related.
“Ever heard of being at work? I’ve got work-related things to talk about,” I replied, crossing my arms. “I believe that means I can come in here whenever I want.”
