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He shakes his head. “You’re slipping. Last week you almost forgot to erase the footage in the parking lot on Market Street.”
“I got a lot going on, okay?” That’s an understatement. “I’ll take care of it. Just get off my ass. I know what’s at stake… for all of us.”
He drops the conversation, and I’m thankful for the awkward pause between us. Roman and Nate will flip fucking shit when I tell them what happened with Jade. They have everything riding on this job working out for us. Their uncle put his neck out for us to get in contact with the buyer in Italy.
All of us need the big payout. This particular buyer will throw a lot of business our way if it goes according to plan. After we handed over the keys to the trucks, our part was over. Now, we have to wait for Roman’s uncle to finish up with the buyer’s middleman before we receive our cut of the deal.
Most of the time, Chase and my crew handle the cars. My job is to scout them and keep the cops off our asses. Years before I ever considered playing hockey, I was into video games. I met Jamie O’Connor, a defenseman on my hockey team, at a gaming convention in Center City, the downtown area of Philadelphia. We became friends after I beat him in one of the earlier editions of Mage Wars, the game, and the Universe his father created.
Because of Jamie, I turned my love of gaming into a useful skill for my crew. Over the years, Jamie taught me everything he knows—hockey included. I never intended to play for the Strickland Senators. Honestly, I never thought I would attend college. And for that reason, I can’t screw this up for my family over a girl.
I have an unquestionable loyalty to my friends who rely on me to make a living. No matter what road I choose, I let someone down. The money I make from the car boosts pays my tuition and keeps a roof over my mother and little brother’s heads. I’m constantly pulled in different directions, conflicted between where I want to be and where I should be.
After we leave the club, Chase drives us over to Knox Motors, the auto body shop Roman owns. His father left the garage to him in his will, though paying the back taxes has been the toughest challenge. Between Roman, Nate, and Chase working twelve-hour days at the garage, combined with our side jobs, he’s still behind on the checks to the IRS.
Roman emerges from the garage, an open beer raised in his hand. “We’re gonna be rich,” he announces before taking a sip.
Chase snickers and turns to me. “You better tell him now.”
The garage doors are raised, loud rap music playing, light pouring out from the space. Nate and the rest of our friends are already inside. None of them wanted to come with us to The Sixth Floor.
On our way into the garage, I tug on Roman’s shoulder. “Hey, Rome, I need to talk to you for a sec.”
He takes another sip of his beer and then offers it to me. I wave him off, and he presses the bottle to his lips.
“I know the girl who owns the Mercedes. She saw me steal it.”
He stops dead in his tracks, slack-jawed. “She what?” Roman shakes his head, staring over my shoulder at Chase. “No, no… I don’t even want to hear it. Because you would never be that stupid.”
“It wasn’t me. Blame bad luck or bad timing. She was on her way to her car when I was driving down the ramp in the parking garage. I saw her again at The Sixth Floor.”
“What the fuck are you doing here, then?” He raises his hands over his head in frustration. “You should be at the club kissing her fucking ass, begging her not to rat on you… on us.”
“She didn’t call the cops.”
“Big fucking deal. She saw your face. She knows your name. She can turn on you at any time. One look at you will lead the cops right back to us.” Roman tugs at the ends of his dark hair and sighs. “Fuck, Kade.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I thought I was careful.”
His mouth twists into a scowl. “Just fix it.” He turns his back on me walking away. “I can’t even look at you right now. Go back to that fucking club. Find the girl. And do whatever’s necessary to shut her mouth.”
Chase stops for a second and shakes his head, disappointment scrolling across his face.
I’ve fucked them, I know.
This fact is not lost on me.
But how can I convince Jade to keep this to herself?
She’s rich, obviously, or she wouldn’t own a Mercedes that costs well over a hundred grand when she doesn’t even need a car in the city.
