Page 22 of Layne Closure Ahead

Still riding the coattails of anger and frustration, she slammed her car’s shift knob into park after coming to an abrupt stop in front of a large retail storefront. Layne got out of her car, slamming her door shut so hard it would have likely amputated any fingers that got caught in it.

She was not giving a shit that she should have done the political thing and called Russell Spencer first before showing up here. If he was going to underhandedly start stealing her business, then she was going to step foot in his territory without one fuck given.

Was it stupid? Yes. Did she care? No. She also should have gone to Liam first, but she wasn’t in the mood to add to her long list of things that pissed her off today.

Layne walked into the retail storefront ignoring the girl at the cash register scrolling through her phone. Layne stomped towards the backroom and past all the iconic New York heart-laden merchandise on the shelves, Statue of Liberty souvenirs, and Empire State Building toothpick holders.

She shoved the door open, walking through the stock area full of plain cardboard boxes. In front of her was another door, but this one required an electronic keycard access. One of her fists began to pound on it repeatedly. “Open the goddamn door!”

She looked up at the camera mounted right above the door with a deadly glare set in her eyes. “I’m not fuckin’ around! Open the door!”

An audible click was heard as the electronic lock was remotely disabled. She didn’t waste a single moment before swinging the door open and walking inside a long hallway until she came to one more door. This one was left wide open.

When she stormed into the office, she was greeted by three of Spencer’s associates, and Russ himself perched on the edge of his desk. Russ was a stocky middle-aged man, that may have been averagely handsome in his prime, but these days he carried a little extra weight around his midsection and his hair was noticeably thinning despite being clipped close to his scalp.

A small screen on the far right wall had the black and white CCTV feed where they undoubtedly had seen her coming to unlock the door for her. The remainder of the room was set up as a small meeting space with a plain table and chairs designed to hold up to six people, a mini fridge off to the right corner, and Russell’s desk centered along the back wall.

There was no stopping her, she approached the man responsible for her foul mood. Without hesitation, she grabbed a handful of his polo shirt in one hand and let the fist of her other hand propel toward his face. “You snakelike motherfucker!”

Her punch was a glancing blow as he realized that she was actually crazy enough to spring an attack on him physically, and he raised an arm to block it. Chaos immediately erupted inside the room with lots of yelling filling the air.

When the first punch didn’t land to her satisfaction, she wound up and threw as many more as she could muster in her fit of rage before two of the men struggled to pull her off of their fearless leader. Even as they grabbed her arms and dragged her back, she spat at Russ, the saliva making it onto his shirt.

The hands on her arms were gripping her tightly, but Layne’s eyes never left Russ’s face. He looked down at his shirt and shook his head before he got up off his desk and stepped in front of Layne.

After a call from Andrew, Russ had been expecting to hear from her. What he hadn’t expected was this unhinged visit. “Did your father teach you nothing? No fuckin’ respect.” His words almost sounded like he pitied her.

Russell’s hand grabbed a handful of her face, squishing her cheeks in his hand. A switchblade was pulled from his pocket and sprung open to expose the sharp edge of metal. He tapped the tip of the knife against her bottom lip.

Still trying to catch her ragged breaths from her outburst and the rush of adrenaline pulsing in her ears, she tried pulling her face back from the sharp threat teasing the softness of her lip with whispers of violence and pain.

He pulled the blade away, compressing it back into the handle until the locking mechanism quietly clicked. “If you were anyone else, I’d be teaching you a little bit about respect. But, I’m going to give you a pass this one time only, Layne. You come into my damn territory again looking to start a war, I will make sure you get one, and you won’t win. Do you understand me?” His hand still latched onto her face, digging into her skin uncomfortably.

“As long as you understand that if you ever approach any of my clients ever again, I won’t only bring the war to you, but I will have half the city at my back when I do.” Her arms jerked against the grip of Russ’s men holding her back.

“Those are big words coming from a little lady. You don’t have the resources, everyone knows it. It’s just a matter of time before what’s left of Scott O’Reilly’s grand enterprise is dismantled, right down to his two brats.” His hand finally released her face, but the red marks of his hold remained on her skin.

Layne’s eyes held all the warning they needed to. “Tread lightly, Russ. I’d hate to put you at the top of my list.”

He shook his head in disbelief and waved his hands at his two men on either side of her. “Please escort Miss O’Reilly out before she makes any other brash decisions today.”

The two goons pulled her out of the room, her feet barely able to keep up with their steps as they guided her out a back entrance that led to the alleyway behind the building. She was given a harsh shove, sending her stumbling, and nearly losing her footing until she caught hold of a chain link fence dividing this property from the next. The steel door shut behind them as the two men retreated back inside.

Layne’s fingers curled around the thin ropes of metal of the fence and pressed her forehead to the cool links as she shut her eyes briefly. Her world was on the brink of collapse and she felt powerless to stop it. One more client ripped from the O’Reilly books today, meant two more were likely to follow. At this rate, they were going to be lucky to hold their ground for another couple of months.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After her encounter with Spencer, she had been trying to pull her head back inside the game. As brash as it had been, Layne didn’t regret storming into Russell’s office and letting him know that she wasn’t going down without a fight.

The event at Eric’s house was only a few days away, and Liam’s lack of leadership was going to sign both of their death warrants. It was quickly becoming clear that she couldn’t run this business on her own, especially not without Liam’s aid.

Layne sat on the floor of her dad’s old office, now having been taken over by Liam. The house was empty most of the time since he had refused to give up his studio down in Tribeca. However, business was still conducted here. Well, what little business they had these days.

Surrounded by boxes, Layne pulled out piles of papers that appeared to be just thrown haphazardly into each box. She guessed that Liam had been the culprit and hadn’t wanted to deal with any of the paperwork. The least he could have done was to keep everything organized in the boxes. Instead, she had to figure out why her great-grandmother’s recipes were in folders labeled bank accounts.

She sighed as she dug through each piece of paper, her eyes scanned for anything that might be useful. Layne didn’t even know what would be useful at this point, but she wasn’t going to leave any stone unturned. Her dad had been old-fashioned, and he may not have left a paper trail for the less-than-legal aspects of his business, but everything else was done in a cold hard copy.

Layne sighed as everything seemed to lead nowhere. No useful contacts, no strategies, and no words of wisdom. A recipe for soda bread was not going to be the lottery ticket she needed. She sat there staring blankly at everything laid out before her waiting for the answers to leap out of their hiding spot.

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