Page 77 of The Fixer

“I called you all here today,” Zee said, poking a finger at his own chest. “There are wrongs that need to be set right. Men who have caused harm to our people, who intend to cause more if they aren’t stopped. We’re going to teach these men a lesson. But should we fail, it’s me who will take the blame. Any questions?”

Because I could, because spending too much time around Mateo made me feel like it was okay, I raised my hand.

“What?”

“So, what’s the plan? How are we going to take down this crew?”

Zee gave me a scowl and, for a moment, I feared I’d made a mistake. I wasn’t Mateo. I didn’t have the protection of Paulo’s daughter keeping me safe. And never in my life had I ever given that kind of attitude to anyone, those with power or not.

But then, Zee’s lip twitched up. “My plan? My plan is to sit here and listen to the man who does this shit for a living. Because, while I can handle whatever D’Angelo throws my way, I also value my life.”

Zeno turned from me, propping himself against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his chest. Mateo gave a little shrug, then motioned to me with his hand. “The floor is yours,” he seemed to tell me, though nothing but a half-smile split his lips.

“Fine.” I gave a sharp nod and pushed from my chair. My crew watched me, waiting for me to give them the orders I knew they would follow at all costs. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way. You’ll do exactly what I say, when I say it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

My men, they gave a nod, while Mateo’s smile ripped across his face. Against the counter, Zeno shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

* * *

Darkness fell, the sounds of the garage quieting as the sun settled in behind the rise of buildings along the horizon. The last of the workers left Alvarez Autobody, leaving just the one inside running the shop. He locked the doors, secured the bays, then shut off the lights and headed toward the back.

With Mateo and Shaw’s help, with their voices in my ear, I slipped in through the side door, cautious of the security system even though I trusted the two of them with my life. Then I settled in to wait, listening to quiet sounds of the mariachi music playing on the radio in the man’s office.

It wasn’t long after the sun set that the pounding on the front door started. A man in a tux peered in through the glass, face fogging up the window between his hands.

“We ain’t open!” yelled the man in the back, his body moving only two steps beyond his office door.

“Please!” called the guy in the tux. “It’s life or death!”

Already turning back to his office, the man paused. Turned to look over his shoulder at the window the tux was pounding against.

“Please! I need your help!”

The man lifted his chin, let his gaze slide across the front of the building to the sleek, sporty, black SUV sitting at an angle out front. He walked closer.

“What is it? We closed up an hour ago.”

“Man, I got a flat. I’m going to meet my girl.” The tux pointed over his shoulder, to the massive bouquet of flowers sitting in the front seat. “If I’m late, she’s going to hang me by my balls. Please.”

The tux dug in his pocket, pulling out his wallet and digging through. He slapped a few hundred-dollar bills against the glass.

“Please, man. I can’t upset my girl.”

For a man running a new business like Alvarez Autobody, money made the world go ‘round. It paid the bills, greased the wheels, helped balance out the illegal chop shop with the legitimate customers who brought their cars in to deck them out. Mateo and Shaw knew this, knew Hector Alvarez was a recent transplant from Miami.

And they knew he wouldn’t turn down good money for something as simple as fixing a flat tire.

“Make it four and you got yourself a deal.”

The tux grabbed for another bill, spreading them out so Hector could count them for himself. Then Hector was moving. Unlocking the door. Grabbing the cash. Stepping back inside so he could turn on the lights.

Except he didn’t get that far.

Instead, he found my gun pointed at his throat.

“Fuck!” Hector spun, ready to race out of the shop and to the safety of the outdoors. Only, he didn’t get that far either.

“Now, come on,” Mateo said, his own gun aimed straight at Hector’s chest. “You’re not leaving already, are you? I just got here. The fun’s just starting.”