Lennox (23 page)

“That I can do.” Drazic sighs as he straightens up.
“Drive me to the shop and we’ll pick up what we need.”

He shuts off the stove and grabs his jacket from the hook over the
door. It feels unbelievably strange and yet so natural to be working
with him again, with my pulse humming in my veins. As we slide in the
Camaro, a million memories flood over me of long nights out racing
with Drazic, Troy, Nash, Jagger, and Cyrus; and even longer nights
getting up to no good. We played it smart, though. We never got
greedy, and so we never got caught.

This is going to be a lot more reckless of an operation. We need to
get information fast. No time to cover our tracks. God, it’ll
be good to have Drazic watching my back again. I couldn’t
imagine doing it otherwise.

Drazic takes a weighty breath, breaking the silence in the car as I
speed us over to the shop. “That’s a damn strong girl you
have there, by the way.” His tone quavers. “She’s
going to be just fine.”

“I hope so, sir.” But I can’t be sure. Rory’s
far too dangerous for me to take anything for granted. I take a turn
too sharp and we slide around.

“I know so.” He laughs to himself. “She’s
damned clever, too. She figured it out, you know.”

My frown deepens. “Figured what out?”

“About how you didn’t kill Troy.”

My pulse races. Elena knows? The crew knows? Oh, god. I’m
feeling sick all over again. But I don’t have time to dwell on
it. “I—I’m sorry, but I—I mean, I really
can’t—”

“I just want you to know where we stand.” Drazic is
watching me; I see him from the corner of my eye. “Amber told
us the whole thing. Elena dragged her over to the shop and made her
confess to all of it.”

Elena knows. The whole crew knows. Despite how on edge I am, that’s
one knot I feel loosening in my belly. One that’s been there
for four years. Even though it surely means Alexander Cartwright will
be furious, I’m relieved that Elena knows I’m not a
murderer. That I wouldn’t drink and drive like that. I sag
forward, waiting for the light to turn. No more lies—I want
Elena to know all my truths.

I just have to make sure she’s around to hear them.

“You have to understand why I did it.” I swallow,
gripping the wheel tight. “I didn’t have time to think
about it. It was the best way for me to help Grams.”

“You think I don’t know how your mind works, Lennox?
You’d do anything for the people you love. Your grandmother,
Elena . . . you’d risk your neck time and again
for them, no matter how much it hurt you.” He shakes his head,
but he’s grinning. “That’s why I know we’re
gonna find Elena. That she’s going to be okay. Because I know
you’re the sort of guy who won’t stop for anything until
she’s safe.”

God, I hope he’s right. I don’t care if the McManuses put
a price on my head. If I end up right back in prison. I just want
Elena to be all right.

My phone buzzes. I slide it out of my pocket and toss it to Drazic.
“What’s it say?” I don’t want to take my eyes
from the road. But mainly, I can’t bear to look for myself.

Drazic crinkles his nose. “It says, ‘Tick tock.’
God. What a sicko.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I force myself to
focus on driving. I should take comfort that Rory’s still
taunting me. It means he thinks there’s a chance I might
cooperate. Which means Elena’s still alive.

But I don’t want to risk it.

Drazic passes the phone back and forth between his hands, anxious.
“I’m sorry, Lennox.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just help me get her back.” I
clench my teeth. Why is this light taking so long?

“No. I’m sorry that we didn’t give you a chance.
That we never even stopped to consider your side. And then you had no
other choice but to work with those monsters . . . We
did you wrong.”

I jerk the car forward as soon as the light changes. “You did
the best you could with what you knew.”

“No. It wasn’t right.” Drazic shrinks down in his
seat. “I’ve always known you to be responsible, safe,
fiercely protective. I should’ve known that you never would
have intentionally gotten behind the wheel after you’d been
drinking. That there had to have been something else going on.”
He whistles, low. “Taking the fall for that waste-of-breath
girl, though . . . There has to be a better way to
help your grandmother.”

“Well, you figure out what it is, you let me know.”

“We’re in this together. The Drazic Muscleworks crew.”
He grips my shoulder. “And we’ll protect our own.”

*

I’ve always loved the high desert at nighttime. Cold sinks down
into the valley, seeping into my bones, even as heat from the sun
rises off the dirt. The empty stretches of earth, strewn with hulking
rocks and stubborn plants, seem to glow in the moonlight. But it’s
surprisingly dark out here. Elena’s Camaro and Drazic’s
Lancer are perfectly camouflaged in the deep pools of shadows off the
edges of Highway 12. We sit with our windows rolled down, side by
side, engines idling so low it sounds like the wind, and wait for the
night to shift.

Then we hear it—the distant rumble like a storm and the flicker
of lights as they sweep down into the valley. Drazic’s eyes
glint in the moonlight as we look at each other. I nod to him. Crew
leader goes first.

Two gaudy Nissans, tricked out with impractical body kits and massive
aluminum spoilers, come tearing down the path toward us. Paolo and
Neshaun, two of Rory’s henchmen, out for their evening practice
race, right on schedule. Too bad they weren’t counting on a
little bit of competition from Drazic and me. Time to force them off
the road and spill what we need to know.

Drazic surges after them, hitting top speed in under ten seconds. I
count to five, then slide into place behind them. Drazic’s
rocketing up ahead, side by side with them, then weaving around them,
just to let them know he means business. His headlights are off; all
they can see is the dark shadow of his Lancer making quick jabs at
them, throwing off their speed.

Neshaun’s lime green car noses ahead, trying to stay out of
Drazic’s reach, but Drazic’s relentless. He doesn’t
fall for Neshaun’s jukes. I slide in behind Paolo’s
electric blue car to box them in, weaving back and forth to block the
width of the highway. They can veer off-road if they want, but
they’re going to pay for it, tearing up those nice low body
kits of theirs and probably shredding their street-race tires as well
on the jagged earth. I can see them calculating the cost as they
meander from side to side.

Brakes scream into the night. Neshaun’s trying to flip around,
throwing a fancy hand brake trick. Sorry, Neshaun, but I mastered
that game. Between me and Paolo’s car, he has nowhere to go in
reverse.

I nudge the back left edge of Paolo’s car with the Camaro,
gently as I can. Sooner or later, we have to force them off the
highway. He honks wildly, warning Neshaun. Neshaun swerves to the
left and exits the paved road with a horrible rip of plastic as he
scrapes the bottom of his body kit against the rough desert terrain.
Drazic slows down to take Neshaun’s place, keeping Paolo wedged
between us.

Paolo’s eyes lock onto mine. He’s about to try something.
He yanks the emergency brake and, in a high-pitched squeal of rubber,
the back end of his car fishtails toward one side and he flips around
to face me. With a rev of his engine, he’s headed straight my
way. Ahh, so he wants to play chicken. But he should know by now.

I never flinch.

His headlights grow and grow, but I keep mine dark. Make him
second-guess my position. A hum courses through my body, the same one
I felt on that night when Troy died, as Amber careened wildly around
the ridge. Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion.
Already I can feel the crunch of steel and the hard press of the
steering wheel against my chest—

But Paolo swerves at the last minute and flies off into a ditch. The
front of his body kit crumples up underneath his car. I slow down and
curve around to pin him in. Drazic, up ahead, doubles back as well,
and wedges himself on the other side.

Neshaun jogs up toward Paolo’s car and helps him pry open the
door, which is partially wedged in the hard dry earth. “C’mon,
man. These dudes are fucking crazy. We have to go.”

I unfold from the Camaro; Drazic steps out of his Lancer and blocks
their path. Neshaun’s wrapped his arm around Paolo to help pull
him from Paolo’s car, but then he drops him, and charges at
Drazic, head low to butt him back. Drazic absorbs the blow with a
mighty groan.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Neshaun shouts,
swinging at Drazic. Drazic grips his stomach with one hand while he
holds up the other to block Neshaun’s attacks. “We got no
beef with your crew. You’re a goddamn nutjob.”

Drazic deflects Neshaun’s fist and shoves it down, exposing
Neshaun’s face. Then he knocks him out cold. Neshaun crumples
to the dirt floor.

I look down at Paolo, hunkered in the debris. “You feel like
cooperating more than him?”

Paolo cusses in Spanish in response.

Drazic circles Paolo’s car to block him in while I crouch down
in front of Paolo. This guy used to be—well, if not my friend,
then at least my brother in arms. Circumstance forced both of us into
the McManuses’ service. But can’t he see them for what
they are? There has to be some way I can get through to him.

“Dammit, Lennox.” Paolo spits into the dirt, then squints
up at me. Only the dome lights from his car illuminate our dark patch
of desert. “I can’t fucking help you. Don’t you get
it?”

I grip his chin in one hand. “No. I really don’t.”

He tries to jerk his chin away, but I hold firm. “You know what
the McManuses are like. It doesn’t matter what I think. What’s
right. Any of that shit. I can’t cross them or I’ll be
just as dead as you.”

Paolo stumbles backward, falling out of my grasp, and scrambles along
the side of his car to get to his feet. Before he can get away,
though, Drazic sweeps his legs and sends him crashing back down to
the ground.

“I see we’re going to have to do this differently,”
Drazic says. “Stay.” Then he reaches into the back of the
Evo and pulls out a tire iron.

“Aww, come the fuck on, man!” Paolo cries. “Lennox.
Man, I know you aren’t in for this gangster shit.”

“Nope. Not my style. But Drazic, on the other hand . . .”

Drazic grins and twirls the tire iron in one hand.

“There was a time I saved your life, Paolo.” I fish a
lighter out of my pocket. I haven’t smoked in years, but
there’s comfort in the rhythmic clicking of the flint. There’s
a subtle menace in it, too, and I’m sure Paolo will agree. “I
saved you, Neshaun, and Sean McManus. Because it was the right thing
to do.”

“Yeah. And I respected that. I watched your back then, too,
until I got out. So that debt is fucking paid.”

“Not so quick. Where were you when I got jumped in the showers?
When I took a pipe to the chin?”

Paolo squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head.

“Sleeping in your bed, all safe and sound, because I’d
sent the big bad to the infirmary. But the big bad had friends. I
paid for saving your ass. And I’d do it all again.”

“Fine, so I owe you. But fucking with the McManuses, that’s
an order of magnitude worse—”

“Is it?” I ask. “I mean, I get that you’re
paying a debt to Sean, too. That’s where our real loyalty was.
Sean McManus. But we didn’t count on Rory. Is that the man you
want to pay your debts to? Is that the guy you’re giving your
life away for?”

“Dammit, Lennox, you know what he’s like,” Paolo
says. His voice is strained; desperate. “He’ll kill my
whole fucking family. I ain’t stupid like you. I’m not
gonna give him any reason to torture my girl. If you wanna help that
lady of yours, then you forget about ‘loyalty’ and ‘the
right thing’ and you do whatever the fuck he says.”

“Wrong answer,” Drazic says, and takes a step closer.
“Rory McManus isn’t the only scary motherfucker in this
town.”

Paolo throws his hands up over his heads. “You’re crazy,
man!”

“Damn right. Especially when it comes to my niece.”

Then he swings the tire iron overhead.

“Okay, okay, shit, I get it! I didn’t know she was your
niece, man! Fuck!”

Drazic pulls back at the last second. His eyes lock onto mine—there’s
a question in them, of whether Paolo is really worth our time. If
it’s really worth sparing his life, even if Rory McManus will
be only too happy to take it from him the next chance he gets. I give
Drazic a firm nod. Paolo could be someone. But like me, he’s
got a lot of baggage to shed first.

We’ll start tonight.

I pull the stack of zip ties from my back pocket and tie up Paolo’s
hands and legs, then move on to Neshaun, still unconscious. “You
get ten minutes,” I tell Paolo. “In ten minutes, Drazic
and I are driving the fuck outta here. If you tell me what I want to
hear, then we’ll leave you just like this. Tied up, but you’ll
still have your cars, whatever else you have on you. I’m sure
you’ll find a way home eventually.”

“Doesn’t matter. My family will die.”

“Not if I kill the McManuses first,” I say.

Paolo sighs. “Yeah, right. Good luck with that.

“The other way this scenario goes,” Drazic says, “is
that we leave here in ten minutes, but we set a nice little fire
first to keep you warm.”

Paolo groans.

“This is your chance,” I tell him. “You can get out
from under Rory’s thumb. I can protect you and your family,
too, when this is done, or I can make you part of the carnage. You
can stay afraid of Rory McManus for the rest of your very, very short
life, or you can have a chance to be free. Which do you prefer?”

“You can’t protect me,” Paolo says, his tone high.
Terrified.

“When we’re done, there’s no one you’ll need
protection from.” I click the lighter on once more.