Page 151 of Scatter the Bones

“You know what’s going on?”

“Guy tried to rob him?” He shrugs and nods toward my saddlebag. “You got your bolt cutters in there?”

“Hell yeah, I do.” I pull out a slightly smaller pair than the ones I keep in my truck. Still sharp enough to lop off a finger or two.

Remy meets us at the corner of the building. I’ve never seen him anything but cocky around the ladies or ruthless in the cage.

Today, he’s…rattled.

Wrath stops and frowns. “What’s going on, Ruthless?”

At Wrath’s grave tone, Remy seems to compose himself. He takes a breath and pulls his shoulders back, slipping into his confident don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. “This guy…some tweaker, I don’t know. He came after Griff and my sister.”

“They all right?” I ask.

He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah. They’re in the garage. They got the guy tied up but…”

“Let’s go meet him.” Wrath sweeps his hand through the air in a move-it-along gesture.

The sharp stink of motor oil and burnt rubber hits me as soon as we step into the garage.

Griff’s standing next to a half-finished classic car, with Molly slightly behind him. Like he’s shielding her from us.

The tension’s thick enough to crack a socket wrench on.

Wrath stops short and crosses his arms over his chest, throwing a disappointed scowl at Griff. “Stonewall, don’t you have a fight you’re supposed to be training for?”

Griff’s eyes widen for a second, then he lets out a sharp laugh. “Trust me, this isn’t how I wanted to spend my afternoon.”

I choke on a laugh.

Wrath nods to the old Chevy. “Nice car. Is it yours?”

I side-eye Wrath. We didn’t rush over here to yap about cars, did we?

“It’s Molly’s.” Griff wraps a protective arm around her shoulders. “We were finishing up some work on it when that greasy little weasel over there showed up and pulled a gun on us.”

I peer around Wrath’s big ass and take a few steps back. Tucked up in front of the car, away from the view of anyone outside, a scrawny man’s zip-tied to within an inch of his life, a filthy rag shoved in his mouth.

He doesn’t move or look at us but seems to be breathing.

“What’d he want?” Wrath asks in hisget to the pointtone.

Griff drops his gaze, wraps his hand around a fist, and works his jaw from side to side. Then he lifts his head and meets Wrath’s stare head on.

“My mom’s got…issues. She moved down to Jersey to start over a few months ago. I haven’t been in contact with her sinceI got home. She left me some messages looking for money while I was on the show but…” Griff shrugs, clearly uncomfortable sharing all this personal info. “I tried helping her out and taking care of her when she was here. And fuck knows she’s drained a lot of money out of me over the years, but this is the first time someone’s ever showed up to collect fromme.”

Remy steps closer to his sister’s side, glances at Griff, and then Wrath. “We don’t know who he works for.”

That’s what I’m here for.I lift the bolt cutters in the air. “He’s got ten chances to give up a name.”

Wrath smirks. “Twenty if you start with his toes.”

“This isn’t my place,” Griff says, holding out his arms in a slow-down gesture.

They go back and forth about where to take the guy while I study the scene in front of me. Molly trembling but trying her hardest to look tough. Griff keeping her close.

The guy on the floor peers up at me, eyes wide. He jerks his shoulder like he’s trying to free himself. His leg’s at a fucked-up angle. Wrists raw and bleeding. Face already bruising.

---