Page 37 of One Kill

It’s only nine in the morning so this is just a preview of the day that’s ahead of us. By the time evening rolls around, he’ll be stabbing his employees for not spit-shining the bumpers.

“Go easy on the kid, it’s his first week.” At seventeen, Petey is barely out of diapers as far as mechanics are concerned. A week into his first internship, he’s already done an oil change on a nineteen-eighty-six Subaru but forgot to put the drain pan underneath. Then he rotated the tires on Riley’s Beemer, who later crashed his car two miles out. Turns out Petey here didn’t check the lugs in the right front tire. The only reason the kid is still here is because he’s Riley’s nephew and his mother, Ashley, would chop Riley’s balls off if he fired her little boy.

So, we’re all suffering in silence.

“I almost fucking died because his mother babied him his entire fuckin’ life.” With dramatics that rival Hallie’s teenage tantrums, Riley drops into his chair and pinches the bridge of his nose, not bothering to open his eyes as he speaks.

“Ain’t the same generation, Ry. We were basically raised by wolves.” I shrug, remembering how simple life was before I realized what world I was living in.

“Yeah, well, these kids, now, are like helpless bunnies and if Petey don’t get his head out of the fuckin’ clouds, he’s gonna get eaten’ up by those fuckin’ wolves.” Meaning, us. We’re the wolves now, yet we’re all afraid of the mother bear.

“Death would be better than dealing with your pissed off sister.” We both grunt because truer words have never been spoken. Ash was the oldest of all us neighborhood kids by one year and she took her job very seriously. She once punched a kid in the nose for telling Riley he had buck teeth.

No one fucks with Ashley.

“Oh, I’m supposed to tell ya that Bridget wants to go to the movies tonight to see something about barbie dolls or some shit. Wanted to know if Hallie could go with. I’ll take ’em and pick ’em up.” Reaching for his coffee, he brings it to his mouth, his eyes on me and waiting for my answer.

It’s not that I don’t trust Riley—I do, he’s like a brother to me—but the thought of Hallie in downtown Newark always makes me nervous. She’s only thirteen, and not by a lot, so her sitting in a crowded theater with fuck knows who doesn’t sit well with me.

She’s all I got. She’s my north and south and my east and west. No matter what direction I go in, she’s the one guiding my decisions.

“Christ, Murph, it’s not like they’re goin’ clubbin’. It’s the damn movies with a bunch of other teens and preteens watching a flick about dolls. How bad could it be?” Ry pops two aspirin into his mouth and washes them down with his coffee, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes like this entire conversation is doing him in.

“Fine. But you go in with them.” My glare could melt the skin off him but he doesn’t even flinch.

“I ain’t watchin’ a bunch of dolls prancin’ around singing and dancin’. Fuck that shit. I’ll get Ash to go. She’s always whining about wanting a girl.” Of course she is. She’s got four boys, and from what I gather, she’s giving up trying for another in fear of getting another boy that she’ll have to chase around the yard.

I got news for her: it doesn’t matter the gender, teens only listen to teens and that’s the only real problem in this world.

“Fine, you fucker. But if she comes home asking me to redecorate her entire room, I’mma hold you responsible for that shit.” I won’t. If Hallie asks, I’d do it in a heartbeat with a fucking smile on my face the entire time.

“Right.” And he knows it.

The rest of the morning we work in silence as he does his inventory, moving cars around, changing license plates, shipping out the sold cars and bringing in the newly acquired ones. Meanwhile, I’m crunching numbers to make sure we’re on track, never inching too close to the red line but making sure our revenue stays within the margin of the possible with a business like ours.

As lunchtime rolls on by, I close my computer and pack up my shit.

“What time’s the movie?” I ask him, just as Petey knocks then walks right in, interrupting Riley’s answer. My chuckle does not go unnoticed if the middle finger he throws at me is any indication.

“Hey, Uncle Ry. That bike you wanted me to ship is leaking oil. Should I get it fixed up before I pack her up?” I’m not looking at either of them as those words slam into my ears and short-circuit my brain for half a second. Pure instinct is the only reason I don’t falter, my gestures as fluid as they were, like the mention of a bike mere days after Jordyn showed up half mangled doesn’t send a jolt of fear running through my veins.

I need to get the fuck out of here and have a long fucking conversation with J, and it can’t wait for her to feel comfortable about it.

“All right, see you guys on Monday.” I grab my bag and almost make it to the door before Riley’s voice stops me dead in my tracks.

“Murph.”

Looking at him over my shoulder, I search his eyes for any malice, anything that would say he’s got my girl’s bike in his possession, eager to get rid of it. I’m bouncing from one eye to the other, making sure that he’s not working with some asshole who possibly hurt my girl. Or worse… that he’s directly responsible for her being shot. I really don’t want to see that in his eyes. Not now, not ever.

“Seven.”

I frown at his word because it makes no sense in my rampaging thoughts. “Tonight, man. Movie’s at seven so I’ll pick her up at six fifteen.” To play the part of the clueless accountant that’s only here to get the numbers right, I roll my eyes for good measure.

“I’ll let her know. Thanks.” With a short nod aimed at Ry, I pat Petey on the back as I squeeze through the door before casually walking out like I do every other fucking day of the week. Except, this time, I’m a mess inside. Thoughts of people trying to hurt J are running through my mind but nothing makes sense. I feel like the kid at an adult table listening to an encrypted conversation.

My only job is to keep Hallie safe, which means I’m gonna have to grow up real fucking fast so I can keep my promise to her the day I found her screaming on that bed.

“Shhh, baby girl, I got ya. I got ya. You’re okay, now. I’m here and I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”

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