Havoc (Tattoos and Ties 1)

“Nah. Just a statement,” Keyes replied matter-of-factly. His father chose that moment to spit on one of the mouthy agent’s shoes. Keyes shot his father a disapproving glare. He didn’t need any of his father’s antics fanning the already out of control blaze.

“Goddammit! What the fuck’s wrong with you people?” the agent shouted, for a brief moment forgetting Keyes as he lowered his eyes to his feet then turned his hate-filled gaze toward Keyes’s father.

“I see a cell phone. We need it,” a female agent said, coming to stand about a foot away from Keyes, her hand extended.

“You ain’t taken my fuckin’ phone. My whole fuckin’ business operates on there.” His father cursed, crossing his once brawny arms over his barreled chest, getting into standoff position. Keyes wholeheartedly agreed. That was when he remembered his parking lot had been full of paying customers when these jackasses had blocked everyone in. Fuck!

Humiliation overtook anger as Keyes cut his gaze toward the corner of the parking lot, closer to the edge of the street, where all his customers stood with the police surrounding them. His stomach dropped when he saw the woman from earlier, standing by herself, looking scared as hell. Watching her made Keyes look back at the agent and almost sigh as he moved his hand to palm side out and caved. He needed this all to go away in order to salvage what he’d worked so hard to achieve.

“It’s in my fuckin’ front pocket,” Keyes said, and as expected, all weapons rose, safeties clicked off, the weight of those eager barrels pointed straight at him.

“Pull it out slowly. Any fast moves, anything else in your hand, I will shoot you,” the agent closest to Keyes roared.

His father went nuts and the dare was back on the tip of Keyes’s tongue, but he stayed quiet, only speaking to his father. “Shut the fuck up, old man,” Keyes hissed, redirecting his father’s ire to him.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, you cocksucker. Don’t you fucking tell me to shut up. When I was your age, I’d have wiped this parkin’ lot with their sorry asses…” His father raged, and Keyes continued to keep his eyes locked firmly on the agent in front of him. The grin on his face made it clear he enjoyed his father’s shift in targets.

“You can get it. It’s in my front right side pocket.” The agent moved slowly, pulling the phone free. The woman beside them was clearly the one in charge. She raised her hand, and a group of federal agents began loading boxes of whatever they found in his warehouse into the waiting vehicles. He also watched as old computers were taken off the property. Good luck with finding anything on those. His father had refused to ever turn the things on. Since Keyes had taken over, he’d only used his cell phone as their primary electronic for the entire operation, storing all the information they needed in the virtual cloud, wherever clouds were kept.

“When can I have that back?” Keyes asked the woman, and one of the agents chuckled.

“Good luck with that.”

The hate was back full force for Keyes. He studied that guy too. If he ever saw any of them alone…

“Let’s go,” the woman said before he could respond. She had no problem turning her back on Keyes, but the men guarding him took several steps backward before turning toward the waiting vehicles.

“Fuck right you leave.” His father thrust out his chest like he planned to inflict more than just his normal hate-filled threats on the agents.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Keyes commanded again, throwing his arm across his father’s chest to keep him up against the wall beside him.

“You disgust me,” his father drawled, another wad of spit landed at Keyes’s feet. “I’ve never been less proud of your sorry ass in my life.” His old man grumbled, breaking free of his arm and moving around him.

As the law enforcement vehicles left, they gave way to a line of news station vans parked along the opposite side of the street. Reporters descended on his customers, cameramen filming from the sidewalks. He’d bet they captured everything. Fuck.

His father’s insults meant nothing. He’d heard those his entire life. With a couple of hand motions, Keyes sent his staff to the customers with the simple command to do whatever they needed to in order to get them out of this shit show. Of course, the reporters swarmed the building, and his father took issue with that, showing his ass even more.

Keyes left him there as he entered the shop, assessing the intentional destruction left behind. Feds always left their calling card. He had no idea what the men in suits thought they’d find, but the aftermath sucked. Stacks and stacks of tires had been tossed all over the place, the metal paneling stripped from the walls, his tire equipment dislodged from its bay, and any removable parts lay scattered carelessly around the building. It looked like a tornado had torn through the shop. Keyes sighed.