Wildcard: Volume Two

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stevens. I hope you're back on the court soon.”

“Thanks, and I appreciate you squeezing me in.”

***

I press ignore on my phone and toss it on the floor. I’m sprawled out on the couch in the hotel, trying to process the news that I might be fit enough to play again soon. My phone rings again, so this time I reach over and turn it off. Seven missed calls from Matt. What could be that important?

I resume my position on the couch and turn on the TV. My laptop sits on the coffee table in front of me. I lean forward and grab it, curious as to whether I have any emails.

There is one waiting from Anna.

Ryder,

You don’t want to piss this guy off. Tony Larezzi, born 03/08/1987. He was just released from a stint in prison for drug offences. He has a record that is way too long for me to list and some pretty strong links to some really bad guys. To put it mildly, this guy is bad news. As in, it’s only a matter of time before he’s away for life.

Is this chick really worth all this trouble? I mean, you can fuck me without all the drama anytime ;)

Anna

I reply, ignoring her advance. The last thing I need is another woman in my life. I’m having enough trouble managing one.

Can you get me details on this guy? Address? Phone number? That kind of thing?

While I wait for her reply, I Google him and his criminal history.

Bingo. Images and news stories fill the screen. He looks a lot rougher in these photos than when I saw him on her doorstep, but it’s definitely the same guy. My email icon pops up. I click on it and read Anna’s response.

Sure. Address is 505 Seventh St, Parkenson. Phone number is 555 404 3433. Do you want his social security too? Yeah, I’m that good ;)

Don’t do anything stupid. This guy doesn’t fool around. As I said, he’s only been out of jail a few weeks. Give me a call when you’re back in London. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.

Anna xx

I stare at his address for a long time. I’m torn between honoring her wishes and stepping in. Plugging his address into maps, I see he’s less than twenty minutes away. For God’s sake, someone has to do something. This guy needs to learn.

Fuck this. I’ll take matters into my own hands.

Chapter Twelve

Scarlett

Under Penny’s advice, I buy a disposable phone so it can’t be traced back to me. I’m more than a little concerned at just how much she knows about all this, but I’m too desperate to question it. If this works, and he leaves me alone for good, then that is all that matters. How little I know about my friend is the least of my worries at the moment.

I’m sitting in my car outside my house when I make the call. I’ve been sitting here for the last twenty minutes trying to summon up the courage. Who knows what this guy will be like? He threatens people for a living—and God knows what else. Has he killed people before? Is that what he is . . . a hitman?

I take a deep breath and plug in the numbers. He answers on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” I say.

My heart is pounding and I stifle a giggle, something I do when I’m nervous. Right now, I’m shitting myself, because I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to this kind of thing. I don’t even know what to say. How do I start this conversation? It isn’t like I’m ordering a pizza. ‘Hey, I need you to scare the shit out of my ex so he stays the fuck away from me’?

“I got your number from a friend who said you might be able to help me.”

My voice is high pitched, a reflection of just how nervous I am. My hands are shaking so much I’m in danger of dropping the phone. I prop my arm up on the window for extra support.

“Uh-huh.”