Page 53 of Rear View
I wished she could too.
The sound of a sliding door opening ground over the line. “How are things with you and Penny?”
“Done,” I said. “I ended it a while back.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear, sweetheart.”
“Nah. Was for the best. Met someone new, though.” I scuffed my boot over the concrete. “Supposed to be takin’ her out Friday.” If I could get through. Let dream girl know I wasn’t a complete ass.
“Is she nice?”
“Very.”
There was a smile in her voice when she asked, “Is she pretty?”
My mouth twitched.“Very.”I unzipped my driving suit down to my waist. “How you doin’ for cash?”
“I’m fine for now.”
“Lemme know if that changes.”
“Of course.”
Pulling the device back, I checked my Instagram messages and my gut torqued hard at a name I saw there.Christ, with this prick again.
I stretched my neck. “Gotta let you go, Ma. I’ll call soon.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I love you.”
“Love you too.” I hung up.
Clicking on my uncle Derek’s name, I read.
Derek: Peter says hi. Wanted you to know he’s thinking of you.
I angled it toward Alec.
His wide stare met mine. “Fucking hell.”
My nod was tight, my exhale, rough. Derek pokingaround wasn’t good. But that’s all it’d been. I’d handle him if I needed to, but so far, I didn’t.
“Christ, I just hope the old man’s parole’s denied.” His stay in medium security likely wasn’t as rough as I’d want it to be, but it was better than him being out. He’d always been possessive and wasn’t the kind to move on…or forget, so surer than shit, he’d come for Ma again.
Alec folded his arms over his chest. “How was it in there?” He cleared his throat. “Prison?”
The guy was good with boundaries. Hadn’t asked about my time when I’d gotten out. We’d just focused on drivin’.
“It’s a shithole. Gotta keep your head up.” That was the rule. Act like prey, and you’ll become it. You didn’t give your back to people you didn’t know…or even the ones you did.It wasn’t an easy place. But I’d grown up under Peter Bosch’s roof, soeasywasn’t in my vocabulary.
He kicked an ice-coated rock. “I should’ve come.”
“Nah. I told you not to.” Just like I’d told Ma, ’cause I wasn’t about to risk the old man finding her.
I’d only gotten one visitor in my time. My pulse had pounded when I’d spotted Juan Castillo on the other side of that plexiglass barrier, back straight, eyes forward. The day he’d offered me a chance. The day he’d reached into the chest pocket of his fancy-ass dress shirt and pulled out a piece of paper—a paper I knew real fuckin’ well.
The message was three words. My brother’slastthree words, which’d changed the trajectory of my life. Words that’d instigated everything and led me to exactly where I was.
When Castillo’d showed me a picture of the Hawthorne Circuit, the raceway on the east side of Edgewater, I’d frowned.
