Bomb: A Day in the Life of Spencer Shrike (Rook and Ronin Spinoff 3)

I’m not like that. I want my Ronnie, but I only want her if she wants me.

And right now, she hates my f**king guts.

I lean back in my chair, looking up at the ceiling. Thinking about how this might go.

I snap back to the present after a while and reach into my pocket for Carson Reed’s ID. He lives up north, not that far from me actually, but in a new neighborhood filled with those up-and-coming professional types.

Carson Reed is the key, I figure. I get up and walk back into the reception area, then scribble a note on the work order board telling the guys I won’t be in tomorrow. Today. When I look up at the new Shrike Bikes clock with my face staring back at me, it’s just about four in the morning.

They can live without me for one day, because I’ve got business to take care of.

Chapter Ten

I sit inside the backseat and just bide my time, tired as f**k, but amped up at the same time. It’s almost six AM now. Pretty soon. After I’m done here I’ll just go home and crash, because I am dog-assed tired. Then I’ll have my date with Carla tonight and life will move forward.

Whether I want it to or not.

And I do want it to move forward. I really do. This in-between shit is wearing me down. I need this trial to be over. I need this bullshit to be put behind me. I need to be able to look myself in the face again.

The door to the garage opens and I sigh.

Finally. The guy takes his goddamned time getting ready. He fumbles with his remote key and doesn’t even notice when the alarm doesn’t chirp. He’s got his arms full of folders and crap and he sets all that down on the roof as he pulls the door open. The dome light stays off, but he’s too preoccupied with his phone to notice that either.

Man, this guy is dumb.

He shoves his shit over on the seat next to him, then closes the door and starts the car. It’s not until he presses the button on the garage door opener that he finally figures out something is wrong.

I point the gun at his head and say, “Bang, motherfucker. You’re dead.”

He stiffens and takes in a sharp breath, but he keeps his mouth shut, and that’s the first smart thing he’s done since I saw him yesterday.

“You know why I’m here, Carson Reed?”

He eyes me in the rear-view and nods.

“Why?”

“Uh…” He clears his throat and tries again. “You’re Veronica’s… friend. You own that bike shop.”

“Well, you got the who down, but I asked you if you know the why.”

He swallows hard. “You love her?”

“I do love her. That’s exactly why I’m here. What time were you gonna call her and tell her no?”

He squints his eyes at me. “What?”

“Time, motherfucker. What time were you gonna call her today and tell her no?”

“How do you know I was going to call her?”

“Carson, do not f**k with me, OK? What time?”

He stares at me, and maybe it’s possible he doesn’t know what I’m talking about, but somehow I doubt it. “Four.”

“Right before closing? That’s a dick move.”

“Mr. Shrike, I’m not sure what you think is going on with her and I—”

“She wants a loan, right? To start a business? I’m not sure what, but something that is not tattoos.”

“Uh, yeah.” He shakes his head. “Then why are you here? I thought you wanted to kill me for finding us together at dinner.”

I laugh. “Oh, I do. Believe me. I do. But I need you and there’s that little matter of murder being illegal. So no, I’m not going to kill you. I need you.”

“For what?” he asks, his voice cracking a little.

“How much money did she ask for?”

“Twenty, why?”

“Twenty grand? And you were gonna tell her no?” Fuck, twenty grand. I have that stuffed in my f**king sock drawer at home. I sigh. “Well, Carson, you’re not gonna make that call at four, OK? You’re gonna make that call at nine AM. You’re gonna get her on the phone and you’re gonna tell her yes. With conditions.”

“I can’t, Mr. Shrike! She’s got no co-signer, she makes less than two thousand dollars a month, and she’s got no down—”

“Carson,” I interrupt him, using my angry voice. “Shut the f**k up and listen. You will call her, you will tell her yes. But then once she’s all happy and screaming with joy, you tell her the conditions. She needs to have a full-time job. She needs to make thirty-seven grand a year. She needs to buy something big to establish her credit, like a car. And she needs to have all that in a week, or your boss will yank the application and make her reapply. You tell her the reapplication process is more grueling. Tell her once she gets turned down, it’s a black mark. You tell her she needs to hustle this shit up pronto, you got it, Carson?”

He just stares at me.

“Carson? I asked you a f**king question.”

“Uh, yeah. But… why?”

“Why?” I laugh. “You got it right the first time, ass**le. I love her. I want her to be happy. I can’t be with her right now for obvious reasons, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let her go. So you’re gonna do me one more favor. You’re gonna take her out on dates. Nice places, dinners—”

Carson Reed throws his hands up. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t do that, Mr. Shrike. She’s…” He stops and physically turns all the way around. “She’s…”