Chapter 1
Chewy
There are people that fit in. They have the image of upstanding respectability and what happens on the underbelly of their life doesn’t seem to matter.
Then there are those that choose to live by a code, lawless as it may sometimes be, who get pinched because they wear a leather vest instead of pleated khakis and a button down.
Rodney and Breach see Mr. Upstanding-Member-of-the-Community coming through the door the same time I do and head for the back room, already lighting up cigarettes and shooting daggers at him with their eyes like the prince of darkness just entered the garage.
Only, this fucker doesn’t have to break down a door or force entry. He walks through life like butter but under the surface he’s greasier than my hands at the end of my day.
He’s halfway through the shop when his eyes catch mine. I snap my tongue on my teeth and spin from the roadster’s carburetor I have in my hand, heading into my office, knowing he’s going to follow me.
When is this guy going to give up?
He’s way dumber than he looks, thinking just because I’m still considered “new” to Valor and part of the Valor Club I’m going to cave to his business offer and skate my way into a parole violation that will land me right back in Lennon Penitentiary. As accommodating as it was there, I’m not going back. I’ll bleed out first.
I came here for a new start two years ago. Worked in Valor Customs for a year before setting up on my own. Finally turning a tidy profit and this motherfucker starts stopping by. Starting a new life is fucking hard but it’s way fucking harder when some stand-up, Superintendent of Schools starts trying to squeeze you to help him line his own pockets.
“Charles.” He walks into my office like I work for him. He’s wearing the light blue button down today, pulled over his expanding gut, making two of the straining buttons look like they are about to let loose and shoot my eye out.
It’s not that hard to make me hate people. It’s a character flaw and once I hate you, there’s no going back. Only, this asshole, he’s got one thing that keeps me from dropping him when he shows up here.
His daughter. Annie.
“Bart,” I seethe, returning his greeting. “For someone that works for the school board, you’re not very smart.”
He shrugs, stuffing his sausage fingers down into his front pockets. “Maybe it’s you that needs to be schooled.”
I walk over to the espresso machine on the wall across from my desk and draw a hissing cup of my special Turkish blend, ignoring him for a long moment before turning and seeing him looking down at the paperwork scattered over my desk then I glance up at the security camera disguised as a thermostat on the wall. It’s not the first time I’ve had these friendly visits from Bart, but what he doesn’t know, is every one of them has been recorded because I may look dumb but I’m far from stupid. Being set up once, shame on me, being set up twice, not happening so since I walked out of Lennon, covering my own ass has become priority.
I sidestep between him and my desk, getting right up in his personal space, and I can smell his onion breath mixing with the smells from the garage as I furrow my brow and take a sip of my espresso from the little porcelain mug that makes me look like I’m having a tea party with a five-year-old.
“Just thought I’d double check on my offer. I know you’re going to see your P.O. in a couple weeks. Wouldn’t want anything to come up before then.”
I sniff as he shrugs a shoulder on a smirk, and I hate that he has the same green eyes as Annie. His broken moral compass is something he’s worked hard to hide, even from his own daughter.
“Nothing better come up.” I shoot him a hard glare, then see Rodney and Breach come back into the open garage, a simple nod my way enough to ask if I need help. I twitch my head back and forth, sending them into stand-by mode as I finish up with this polished turd that seems intent on fucking with my program.
“It won’t. I’ll promise you that. Just come meet with us. That’s all. You see what we offer, you see how it can benefit us both and then you decide. Just don’t ignore me, Charles. I don’t like being ignored.”
“Well,” I pause, taking another sip of the steaming liquid in the cup, raising my pinky for effect before finishing, “I don’t like your face or your clothes or your breath or you.”
But, I do like your daughter. In fact, I’m pretty fucking sure I love her. So, that’s going to be a little complicated.