AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I tossed my wrench to the side and wiped my grease-covered hands on my rag. “I thought the same thing. Sick fuck.”
“She better grow a thick skin. If her brother’s a Border Lord things are about to get even crazier in their house.”
He was right.
The Sons of Sinister had a rep for taking no bullshit, but the Border Lords had a rep for being flat-out stupid. They didn’t think things through before they moved. Half of their crew had done some sort of jail time since they were always getting popped by the police.
Our boys were smoother. Except for the day before with the urn mishap, and whenever we gave Joker free reign, we usually thought before we acted. Maybe that was why I felt so shitty about the situation.
“You’re right. She’s too soft for this shit. I had a run-in with her at The Strip, and she fucking cried. She’ll never survive her brother’s bullshit with the Lords.”
And she wouldn’t.
She wasn’t like the other girls around Atlanta. She was clean and soft. Untouched and sensitive. She would be eaten alive. They would pick at her carcass like the savages that they were until all the remained was the shell of the girl she used to be.
Hopefully, she stayed away from The Strip and her brother’s affairs. Maybe then she would stand a chance because if not, she was done for. I didn’t want to see such a nice girl pulled under. She didn’t seem like she deserved that.
I spent the rest of the day in the garage. Another two days of work and I would be finished. I wouldn’t get paid as much as I did for dealing, but it was honest money, which somehow made it feel like more. I had worked hard for the pay I was going to get, and I felt good about it.
The week flew by, days mixed with motor oil, exhaust, and chronic. The boys doubled our money, selling almost all of our Bennies. The Border Lords were cooking some Crystal and had blown one of their houses to shit. Adderall was the next best thing for a meth head, and since the Lords were Meth based and their product was burnt to hell, their tweakers were beating our door down for a pick-me-up.
Once Friday hit, and after resupplying and splitting the rest four ways, we were still riding the money high. I rode to The Strip, feeling good about the night and hoping to double my half of the drug money with a few races.
I was getting close to what I needed to buy my building and start my garage. I had even found a storefront with a side garage that looked promising and was close to my price range. It had once been a muffler shop, but I knew I could spruce it up and trick it out to make it approachable for my kind of customer.
The Strip was already packed, the sounds of engines shrieked, and the familiar scent of oil and burnt rubber eased my weary soul. The sound of Brick’s gun filled the night sky before two racers took off from the starting point, their tires squealing and exhaust and smoke trailing behind them.
I parked next to Crow’s bike, a teal and black Hayabusa with the neons to match, pushed my kickstand down, and climbed from my bike just in time to catch Carmen in my arms when she ran into me.
“Hey, you. Long time no see,” she purred.
She was attractive with her toasted Puerto Rican skin and luscious dick-suckers, but I had worn her out once and didn’t plan on doing it again. I wasn’t a round-two type of man. One and done was my deal.
My shoulders were stiff, and I held her with my arms and not my hands. I didn’t want her on me, so I quickly pushed her away.
“I’ve been busy,” I said, stepping around her and walking toward my crew on the sidelines.
She followed me, three of her steps matching one of mine, and making herself seem desperate as fuck.
“Even too busy for me?” she asked.
“Yep.”
With that, she stopped following me, and I kept walking.
There was no need to sugarcoat it. Carmen knew what we were doing a month ago when we did it. We were fucking—the end. There would be no second time, which was what she had agreed to before I pushed into her wet heat.
“Carmen still chasing after your dick?” Saint asked, hitting his joint once and passing it my way.
I took it and pulled a deep drag into my lungs. “Yep.”
“Did you let her down easy?”
“Nope.”
“You’re full of words tonight. What’s with the good mood?” he asked, sarcastically.
I was in a shitty mood, but I had to be there to make my money.
