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Riley
“Good morning.” Turbo smirked at me as I climbed from the Corvette at the abandoned warehouse in Hawthorne Heights, my bat in hand. “You look well fucked.”
“Says the guy with his pants undone,” I deadpanned. He was resting his butt on the hood of his car, his ankles crossed and a joint hanging from his lips. He’d called me not long after I’d picked up the Corvette and said it was important.
It didn’t look too fucking important to me.
He chuckled, reaching down to zip up his jeans. “I was in a hurry. Sue me.”
“She fuck’s good.” I nodded, but let the annoyance reflect in my tone. “Why did you drag me out here? Can’t you go a day without me?”
“She was the one screaming my name, not the other way around.” He scoffed, a hint of a smile on his lips. “I thought we bonded yesterday. Why are you being a bitch? Did you know your brother’s a druggie?” That got my attention.
“You’ve been watching my fucking brother? Stay away from him. I mean it,” I bit out, and he rolled his eyes, taking a puff of his joint.
“I didn’t go looking for him, no. So, you know he’s in the drug scene?”
“Yes, he’s always liked his pills and powder. Why?” I demanded, getting defensive. We’d all taken pills or snorted cocaine once or twice in our lives, but Ryder did it regularly. The fact people were taking notice and referring to him as a druggie was pissing me off though.
“I was buying smokes at the gas station a couple hours ago and he hit me up for LSD and Molly,” he answered, raising an eyebrow. “Why would he come to me when he has a million drugs at his fingertips through your family business?”
“You fucking sold him LSD and Molly?” I spat, gripping my bat tightly as my jaw clenched. Our parents would strangle him for buying drugs from another business. A lot of people were greedy, making shitty batches for higher profit, but we kept ours pure. Ryder knew not to touch anyone else’s supply.
“I didn’t say that. He hit me up for it, but I told him I didn’t have anything.” He scowled. “I don’t turn down business from anyone, so I hope you can see how important our friendship is now. I could make a killing off him, you know? He wanted a lot.”
I blinked at him for a second before replying, the anger burning away only to leave confusion in its wake. “You turned him away?”
“Of course I did. He’s your brother. If he wanted weed, I’d sell it to him, but I don’t want to be responsible for your brother fucking himself up. Do your parents not like drugs?”
I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and blew out a puff of smoke. “We can do coke and weed in moderation if we get it through them so they know it’s pure. My parents also specialize in crystal, but they don’t allow us to touch that. They don’t tend to care much for party pills though. The main clients for that are rich kids and frat houses. Do you feel bad selling to kids who’ll take too many and die?”
He shrugged, looking away from me. “Everyone who takes drugs can die, Donovan. I don’t sell to young kids, but high school seniors? They’re old enough to know what they’re doing. They know the risks they’re taking. Do your parents feel bad for selling to addicts who will most likely end up dead? It’s just business.”
“Aren’t you worried about rich kids dropping dead and their families blaming you?”
“I rarely sell directly to my clients. I have runners, or I do drop-offs. Not many of my customers know who I am. There’s a reason I’m one of the biggest players in the game.” He winked at me before finishing his joint and squashing it under the toe of his shoe. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that your brother’s sniffing around other dealers. He needs to be careful.”
“He’s the son of some of the most notorious criminal street crews in the country. I doubt anyone’s going to sell to him.” I laughed but immediately stopped when he cringed.
“That’s the problem. Nothing would knock your family down like your brother copping a hot shot or a bad batch of pills. Take it from someone who's supposed to be their enemy. Killing Ryder would send a message, and you already know how much it ruined your family when Zavier’s brother killed Lloyd. He shouldn’t even accept a bottle of water from anyone else because there’s always someone ready to strike.”
Chills ran down my spine, and I shook my head. “Ry’s not stupid. We grew up knowing not to trust anyone outside our circle.”
“I don’t mean this to be a prick, but drugs make a person stupid. If he’s hooked, he’ll do anything for a fucking fix. Just because he’s not injecting crystal yet, doesn’t mean he won’t. All it can take is the promise of a good high from someone he thinks he can trust, and he’ll take it.” His face was void of emotion and he shoved his sunglasses over his eyes as he stood up straight. “Enough of that, it’s getting depressing. You want to race for pink slips tonight? I had a guy drop out and I need someone to fill their spot.”
I took a drag of my cigarette, glaring at him. “You think I want in on that shit? I’d never risk my Corvette like that.”
“Use the Supra. You’re a good racer, you’d win,” he replied with amusement. If they wanted to risk it all, they could be my guest. No amount of adrenaline rush was worth losing my baby over.
“Fuck no. I’m not the best, my ego isn’t that big.” I scoffed, flicking what was left of my cigarette at his feet. “And I’m giving the Supra to Luna.”
“You’re obsessed with that girl.” I flipped him off when he laughed at me.
“Mind your own business. I can't race tonight even if I wanted to. It’s fight night at the Psycho’s shed, and Mom wants me to attend.”
“Big fight?”
“Seems that way. Beckett’s fighting Grim, and Maddox is up against Zane Evans. I’m kind of hoping someone challenges Mom so I can watch her flatten them.” I smirked. “I’d offer for you to tag along, but I doubt that would be a good idea.”
