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“You can bet your hot ass this will continue.” He pecks my lips. “Let’s go kick some Hellraiser ass.”
Chapter 7
Banger
It’saboutfuckingtime.
That was my first thought when I heard what Ghost was saying to Caden. I haven’t been a part of this crew for long, but even I saw that shit happening a mile away. I didn’t want to interrupt, but these motherfuckers messed with Greta, and she’s ours to protect. She’s been in the downtown Abbs Valley area for longer than I can remember, and if it wasn’t for Les, she and Paul would have lost the place. Slowly, they’re turning downtown into a place I’m proud to call home again. It wasn’t much when I grew up here, but it is now. I didn’t grow up in a bad home like most people who ended up in gangs did. We just grew up poor. I found a life of crime all on my own.
We pull in front of Les’ Place, and it’s surrounded by cop cars, fire trucks, and a very pissed off Greta.
Ghost squeals in behind me, he and Caden jumping out at the same time.
“Greta!” I call out. She called me half hysterical, and I dropped everything to come here. She’s like family, and these damn Hellraisers definitely fucked up now.
“Banger,” she sighs in relief.
“Where’s Paul?” Caden asks, giving her a hug.
She hugs him back tightly and does the same to the rest of us. “He’s in the ambulance. Smoke inhalation and some minor burns.” She swipes her gray hair from her face. “That’s never happened in all my years!”
“What happened?” Ghost asks gently, leading her to sit in the passenger side of his car. She sits down heavily, looking like she’s aged fifty years tonight.
“He dropped some fries in the fryer, and it started bubbling like crazy. More than normal. Paul heard it hissing and knew something was wrong and got us all out of there, but he went back in for Taylor, one of the waitresses. It exploded seconds later and burnt half the kitchen.” She sucks in a deep breath, tears in her eyes. “If he hadn’t jumped out of the way, he wouldn’t have made it.”
Caden, Ghost, and I all share the same look. If this was the Hellraisers, this is too far. I crouch in front of her. “How do you know this is them?”
She digs around in her apron pocket and hands a piece of paper to me. “It says to tell him that he won’t get away with this.”
“Ma’am.” A firefighter walks up beside us. “The fire is out, but the kitchen is badly damaged. We’ll have to shut you down for the time being. You might want to get the owner on the line because this looks like arson.”
“Excuse me?” Ghost barks. “Are you accusing her of something?”
“No, but it doesn’t look good. The gas line was rigged to blow. We’ll give the owner further details.”
Greta stands up. “The owner is Alessa Poletti. Why don’t you give her a call?”
His eyes widen, and I have to contain a snort. That name carries a lot of fucking weight around here, and I’m glad I’m on the right side of it.
He hands Greta a card. “Please tell Mrs. Poletti to give me a call.” He turns without another word and walks away. Fucking Fire Marshall Seth Pandrie. I went to school with him, and he’s still a dickhead.
“I’ll call Les. You have a seat,” Ghost offers, already pulling his phone from his pocket. He flips it to speakerphone.
“Hey, Les. I hate to bother you, but something happened at Les’ Place.” He fills her in on everything that’s been going on.
“He did fucking what?” Les says in that tone that makes grown men piss themselves. “Are Greta and Paul okay?”
“We’re fine. But the kitchen is destroyed,” Greta answers.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll have a crew down in the morning to fix it.”
Ghost sighs. “They’re shutting it down for an arson investigation.”
“I’ll be goddamned. I’ll call Pandrie and have it taken care of by daylight. I want someone on Greta and Paul until this shit is taken care of,” Les barks.
“Not a problem,” Ghost answers easily.
“We’re almost done here, and we’ll be back in town,” Les says, and the line disconnects. Ghost slips the phone back into his pocket.
