Page 192 of Repairing the Wreckage

Tension pinches Remy’s expression. “He doesn’t need the publicity. Not before the fight.”

Griff turns haunted eyes on me. “What am I going to say? My estranged mother almost got us killed because she owes some drug dealers? That’s all people will be talking about leading up to the fight.”

I don’t want to do a damn thing that protects his mother, but his concerns are valid. The promoters would love a juicy story to bring more attention to the fight. Anything to sell more tickets. Even if they spin it to make Griff look like a hero, all that exposure will shine an ugly spotlight on his family demons.

“Lost Kings always want to know if anyone’s moving product through their territory,” Remy says to Griff.

“They might’ve lost the battle with the hillbilly heroin,” Griff mutters. “That shit’s everywhere.”

Remy shrugs. “They’ll still want to question him. Find out who he works for. Anything they can get out of him.” Remy slaps his hands together like he’s dusting off the responsibility of the robber’s dwindling life expectancy.

“Are they going to…kill him?” I whisper.

Remy stares at me like that’s his last concern in the world.

Griff pulls the magazine from the robber’s gun out of his pocket. “It was loaded, Molly. He could’ve killed us.”

“I need you to go home before they get here,” Remy says.

The distant roar of engines speeding down the road draws the three of us to the open garage door. Too late.

“Shit. How’d they make it from Empire that fast?” Remy asks.

“Jiggy’s been out this way a lot lately.” Griff shrugs. “You want to ask him why, be my guest.”

“Jigsaw threatened to cut off a customer’s fingers for touching my leg last summer.” I let out an awkward chuckle. “Imagine what he’ll do to this guy.”

Griff raises two eyebrows at my brother. “See. She’s fine.” He rests his hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

The roar becomes deafening as two Harleys pull into the parking lot.

I back farther into the garage.

The gunman stares up at me from the floor, the whites of his eyes bright in the surrounding darkness. He yells into the gag my brother stuffed in his mouth and thrusts his bound wrists at me.

“No can do.” I shrug. “You should’ve listened to my boyfriend and beat it when you had the chance.”

“Get away from him,” Remy says.

The engines idle outside for a few seconds, then cut out.

I return to Griff’s side. He quietly hands me his car keys. “I want you to take my car and go home after we give them a rundown of what happened, okay? Don’t talk to anyone about this.”

I pocket the keys and scowl at him. “How dumb do you think I am?” I gesture to the crowbar leaning against the back tire of my car. “I’m probably on the hook for some kind of felony assault myself. You had already subdued him when I attacked.” Nerves keep forcing me to ramble and make up stuff to put Griff’s mind at ease. “We’re in this together.”

He hooks his arm around my neck and pulls me against him. “I love you so much, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m so fucking sorry this happened. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d gotten hurt. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

I slide my arms around him and squeeze. “I couldn’t tell you were scared. And I never doubted you were going to disarm him.”

He pushes me back and cups my cheeks. “We need to work out some sort of plan or signal. I didn’t know how else to tell you to get down on the floor and take cover.”

“Duh. I figured when you tapped my hip, that’s what you were trying to tell me to do.” I point to the passenger side of my car. “I was planning to crouch down and hide behind the front corner.”

A rush of harsh laughter bursts out of him and he hugs me again. “I hope it’s the last time we ever have to worry about it.”

Griff

The need to keep Molly close to reassure myself she’s okay keeps warring with my need to keep her safe from the bloodshed that’s about to happen.

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