Fracture (Blood & Roses #3-4) - Callie Hart Page 0,14

phone tap, now this, I become more and more unnerved. I wasn’t under the illusion that he told me everything, that’s for sure, but I thought I at least knew the lay of the land with him. And now it seems as though I didn’t know the lay of the land at all. I didn’t even know what fucking country we were in.

“So the fifteenth’s all set?” Caleb asks.

“Sure is,” Rick replies.

“Sweet. We’ll see you at the Coal House. Tell your old man Petey says hello, you hear?” Caleb draws Rick into a loose hug, slapping his back before swinging his leg over his bike and grabbing hold of his ape hangers. The snarl of bike engine fills the warehouse. With a deafening rumble the three men lap around Rick and then burn out of the building, leaving the lone man standing below.

This is where I’m supposed to make my presence known. This is where I’m supposed to make Rick hurt, and then kill the man. I don’t do that, though. I attempt to gather my thoughts as I watch him collect his leather jacket from where he’d slung it over a rusting handrail and put it on. Why the fuck do those guys want to know about Charlie’s business operations? Especially if they haven’t actually hit any of the places yet? It makes no sense, although they’re obviously planning on hitting this cutting shop at some point. They wouldn’t want to know how many men are patrolling the place otherwise. And why the fuck is Charlie hiring gangbangers?

There are a million questions swirling around my head as I let Rick walk outside. By the time I’ve decided I want to question the fucker he’s already reached his car, a flashy Mitsubishi Evo with blacked-out windows. His body is bent, half in, half out of the machine.

“What’s up, Rick?”

The guy shits his pants. His body jolts, his hand automatically reaching around his back: gun. He sees the Desert Eagle in my hand before he manages to clasp hold of his own weapon, though. I’m not pointing it at him, just holding it by my side, but he knows me. Knows I don’t play with my dick unless I intend to fuck with it. Our eyes lock. “Zeth, man! What you doing out here?” The question he’s posing is really a different one, though. How much did you see? How much did you hear?

“Oh, you know. Same as you, I guess. Just getting a breath of fresh air.” I heard enough, motherfucker.

Rick exhales, sitting down on the edge of the driver’s seat. He knows he’s fucked. “Charlie sent you along with a message, right?” he says, though by the tone of his voice he knows his fate from here on out. Charlie’s not a man to mess around—he likes to make an example, and he likes people to know about it. Rick’s heard about the other guys who were stupid enough to go behind Charlie’s back; he knows what comes next.

“Yeah,” I tell him. “I got a message. But I’m interested in what you gotta say before I deliver.”

Rick looks up at me, a glimmer of hope sparking in eyes that held only resignation a second ago. “What, you wanna know why you’re being exed out, right?”

What? I scrutinize the eager look on his face. He’s not just saying random shit. He’s speaking the truth. “I’m being exed out?” This hadn’t even occurred to me, but it makes a lot of sense now that he’s said it. When Charlie doesn’t trust a man, when he’s getting ready to kill him, he’ll ex him out. Exclude him from all his dealings, keep him at a distance, and watch him like a hawk. It all fits into place.

“Charlie found out something about you, man,” Rick says. “Something he didn’t like. Not one bit. Said you were compromised now, no good to him. He wants you gone. Told the boys to get ready—that he was gonna need a new right hand. The old one was about to get cut off. That’s what I heard.”

Rick’s being so helpful right now, as most men who are about to die are, in the vain hope that his helpfulness buys him a little leverage. He doesn’t know that I actually don’t plan on killing him, though. I take full advantage of the situation.

“What has he suddenly found out about me?”

Rick shakes his head, shrugging. “Didn’t say. Something about your past, though.”

Well that’s hardly useful information. Everything up until