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“That doesn’t mean we should stop fighting.”
“No, but it does mean that it doesn’t have to destroy our lives. Maybe next time you see Rafe, you should remind him of that.”
As he left the house, I had to wonder if he was right. What would my life look like if I wasn’t dedicated to Rafe and the job? Would I have stayed and had the life I always wanted? My mind drifted toher…to the few weeks I spent with her that felt like a lifetime of shit I would always be missing out on. Leaving was the only option. No matter what Johnny said, this life would never allow for simple pleasures. Danger and destruction was all we left in our wake.
14
JACK
“Jack!”
I spun around when Mike called out to me. He was under a car, rolling himself out. I glanced around his shop, impressed by what he had. I liked the smell of grease and cars. It grounded me, reminded me that you could finish a job and accomplish something without taking a life. How easy would it be to drop everything and disappear for a few years? I could vanish from my life and start over, pretend none of this had ever happened.
Mike said as he walked over. “Did you bring the keys?”
I dug them out of my pocket and handed them over. “Thanks for doing this.”
“I finished a job last night, so I had an opening. Any chance you thought about my offer?”
“Yeah. I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”
He cocked his head to the side, studying my face for a moment. “How about part-time? I could use another set of hands.”
“That might work, but…”
“But you have something else going on,” he surmised.
“Something like that.”
He glanced out the front bay of the garage, then lowered his voice. “Look, whatever you’re into, you should know that there are eyes everywhere. Don’t go poking around where you shouldn’t.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Jack,” he said, grabbing my arm as I started to walk away. “Just…be careful.”
I nodded, taking his advice wholeheartedly. He’d been around this town long enough to know that the players on the board could ruin a life. But I had no intention of dying in this shitty town.
“I should have the car done by this afternoon. I’ll give you a call.”
“Thanks.”
I took a drive around town, gathering information on the locals. Even though Baz was into selling weapons, that didn’t mean the local gangs wouldn’t have information. But you didn’t just walk up to a gang member and ask for information. That would get you shot.
I stopped at the local watering hole in the shitty part of town. It didn’t take more than a minute after sitting at the bar to discover who was the best person to ask about purchasing a weapon. Then again, the bartender always had good intel.
As soon as I sat down, he set a glass down in front of me and poured a whiskey. I hadn’t asked for it, but I’d gladly take it.
“You lookin’ for somethin’?”
I glanced around the bar, then slid him a hundred-dollar bill. “I need a gun.”
He took it, stuffing it in his pocket. Nodding to the corner, he leaned on the bar, lowering his voice. “Talk to Rook.”
I swiveled on the stool, downing my drink as I stared at the man. “Thanks.”
Rook was watching me from the moment I turned to face him. He wasn’t selling. No, he was the typical middleman, the guy with connections. If I played this right, he would be a wealth of information.
I slid into the booth across from him and leaned back casually. “I hear you can point me in the right direction.”
