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“Get off me, punk.” He shoves me, hard, and I stumble back a step. He sneers in my face. “Think I’m afraid of you?”
“You think I’m here to play games?” My fists tighten until my knuckles crack. “Think I have nothing else to do? I’m trying to figure out what you want from her.”
“What business is that of yours, asshole?” The guy is almost my height, built like a tank. “Get outta here before I smash your pretty face.”
I don’t budge a step. “If you lay a finger on me, I’ll break your hands and then ask you again: what do you want with Megan? It’s a simple question, or were there any words you didn’t understand?”
He growls and I intercept him before he can grab me. I twist his arm around his back until I hear his bone begin to crack, and through his wail, I say in his ear:
“Talk. Now.”
Thinking rationally, coming here to face this man alone was a stupid move. I should have back-up. I should at the very least have a weapon. But in my defense I haven’t been able to sleep a wink since leaving Megan’s apartment three days ago, so my brain is mush.
My only thought has been to fix this. Get it out of the way. Make sure she’s safe.
That’s my mission. I’ve even blown off Dakota’s plans to rehearse for another concert. Been ignoring all phone calls and anyone knocking on my door. I’m putting my affairs in order before I go down into the illegal fight club in the underbelly of the city.
I have no illusions as to what I’ll find there, or how dangerous it will be. Ash has told me enough to ensure I’ll go in with my eyes open.
“Fuck, man, let go! I’m not here for this Megan chick. Not here for her, dammit, stop!”
I frown. Not here for her? “Then who are you here for?”
“Her fucking roomie, Raylin O’Brien. She owes me.”
Stunned, I make the mistake of relaxing my grip, and he elbows me in the gut. Despite my surprise, I hunch over reflexively, minimizing the impact, but he still manages to get in a good one that steals the air from my lungs long enough for him to escape my hold.
“You’re one unlucky son of a bitch,” I wheeze, trying to pretend it doesn’t hurt like a mother.
He pauses, fists raised. “Say what?”
“Raylin. She skipped town a while ago, and nobody knows where she is. Fuck.” I straighten slowly, pain radiating from my gut to every part of my body. “You came to collect too late.”
He scowls. “And how the hell do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Fucker… You can have Raylin, for all I care. Never met her, and probably never will. I don’t give a fuck, and if you’d done your job right, you’d both be gone from here by now. But she left, and you should leave, too, is all I’m saying. You’re wasting your time here.” I rub my mouth on the back of my hand. “What the hell did Raylin do to have you stalking her like that?”
“None of your fucking business, as
I said.” He makes no move to attack me, though, studying me with intelligent, light blue eyes. “Any idea which way she headed?”
“Just up and left, no explanation, no nothing. Didn’t even pay the rent.”
The guy says some choice words, and turns to go.
“Hey.” I start after him. “Will you leave Megan alone?”
“I’m done here,” he says, walking away. “It’s Raylin I’m after. I’ll find that little bitch and make her pay.”
I wonder briefly what the hell this Raylin got herself into. This guy is serious about getting his hands on her.
But my mission here is done. Megan will be safe, and I have more things to take care of before I meet up with Clyde, leader of the Silver Gang.
Rubbing my ribs, squinting to focus my tired eyes, I set off toward my parked car. I need to convince Armin to leave Damage Control fucking alone. Here’s to hoping we can reach an agreement.
***
“An agreement. What do you think you could offer me that I’d want? Enlighten me.”
