Page 72 of Mine to Keep

He nodded, and we followed closely. Greg went about laying out bowls and getting all of the food out for his “babies.” He glanced at Gabe a few times, and I was to his right, watching him like a hawk.

Once he had their food down, he leaned against the counter. “Why are you here?” He was sweating, there was a shake to his hands, and his gaze darted from me to Gabe.

“I have a few questions for you, Greg.” I hopped up onto the kitchen stool.

“What questions?”

“You own a red-and-black bagger bike?”

His brow creased. “Sort of.”

I looked over at Gabe, who rolled his eyes. “No one sort of owns something, you do or you don’t. Maybe playing with us isn’t a great idea.” Gabe stepped forward, and Greg held up his hands.

“Let me explain.”

“That would be a smart idea.” Gabe’s expression was full-on sarcasm.

“I did buy a bagger bike about six months ago. It was a stupid idea; I’m not motorcycle material.” Greg laughed nervously.“Anyway. I was going to sell it, but my friend told me they’d buy it off me.”

“But that didn’t happen because you’re still on the registration and title,” I said.

“Right. But also wrong.” Greg cleared his throat. “My friend thought it would be smart if I kept making the payments and stuff, build my credit since it’s sort of shitty. So they’ve been paying the monthly and the insurance to me, then I take care of it.”

That was fucking clever. “I see. What a nice thing for your friend to do.” I grinned. “Who’s the friend?”

“Why do you need to know that?”

“Here’s the thing, Greg.” Gabe sighed. “When you have something, anything, under your name and it’s used in a nefarious way, well, that gets tracked back to you.”

“Nefarious way? It’s not really illegal, is it?”

“Is your friend on the insurance or anything?” Greg’s grimace was answer enough. “That’s not good.” I shrugged.

Greg frowned. “Wait, are you guys with my insurance carrier?”

Gabe laughed. “Do you know a lot of insurance companies that have men with guns going door to door threatening their clients to be sure to put all drivers on their plans?”

“It’s a scary world,” Greg mumbled.

“Your friend, who are they?” I’d had enough of this conversation.

“Are you going to hurt my friend?”

Gabe took another step forward. “I’m gonna hurt you in a second, Morgan. Who is the friend?”

Greg bit his lip, hesitated, then responded. “Lenny Harlston.”

Who the fuck is Lenny Harlston?

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Nick

“Lenny Harlston?”

Greg nodded. “Yeah, why? Do you know them?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose to release the ever-growing pressure. “No, Greg, that’s the problem.”

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