Page 21 of Mad Max

“No one is there to listen. They died when I was a kid.”

His eyebrows draw together till they part in understanding. “My parents are dead too. Mom before I got locked up, and no idea who my pops is. Rather think of him as dead than think of him at all.”

Wow. Shit got deep real quick.

“Parents suck,” I deadpanned.

He only waits half a beat before he smiles and chuckles a bit. And man, does the guy have a killer smile. If I were standing, I’m almost positive my legs would have given out. Think this is the first time I’ve ever seen him do it.

And the chuckle? Fuuuuck. Talk about honey spreading all over my body, turning me to goo.

I’m glad I can make him laugh, even if it’s ’cause he’s laughing at me. He went deep, and I just made it comical.

I really am bad at talking to others.

“Yeah, basically.”

Now I’m the one smiling. He accepted my response and just rolled with it. He could have said I was shit at emotional talk, or that I needed to learn to read the room—two comments I hear more than most, I’m sure. But he didn’t, and it makes me want to talk to him more. Which is odd, since talking is usually not my best feature, and I tend to stay away from it unless I have a script, like with my interviews. Having planned-out conversations saves me from random things coming out of my mouth that aren’t always socially acceptable to say.

My attention is pulled from this moment as a white van drives down the road and turns into the secondhand shop’s back parking lot.

“I’ll see you around, Beast.”

I catch his raised eyebrows for a second as he watches me stand quickly and all but flee the scene. Not sure if it’s from my immediate exit or that I called him Beast to his face. Didn’t mean to do that.

I move quickly, going through back streets and looking over my shoulder often to make sure I’m not being followed. I wouldn’t put it past him to do that, but I don’t think having a Hound at my back will help if that van is what I think it is.

Sure, it could just be an inventory drop-off or something. The back lot is for dropping off bulk items, but I’ve never seen anyone use it before. Most come in the front door, some even toting garbage bags of clothes to sell.

My palms sweat as I move closer and hear the van doors shut. I have no clue what I’m going to find on the other side of this thing, but I’ve got a plan. Sure, it might be shitty, but it’s a plan at least. A script on how to get to the next step.

“Afternoon, gentlemen.” My voice is strong as fuck, even if I don’t feel it.

All three of them jump and turn to see me coming from the back of the vehicle. Not sure what they see when they look at me, but no one is drawing a weapon. Either they don’t think I’m a threat, or they have nothing to hide.

“This area is off-limits. If you’re looking to buy or sell, go around front and the kid in the shop will help you out,” the bigger of three guys says for the group. It’s with a bit of a bark but not on the completely rude scale. Not yet anyway. The two skinny dudes, who look more strung out than anything, just stare at me with bug eyes.

“Doubt the inventory I’m looking for is in the store. Might be in the van, though,” I say, nodding toward said van and really hoping the late-night kung fu movies I watched recently are giving me the correct wording to use. Of course, with those, the dialogue is the last thing anyone put much effort into. Maybe I should have researched some of the more recent movies to get this right.

The skinny guys share a look, but the bigger one just keeps eye contact with me till he looks me up and down. I dressed like a businesswoman, my look inspired by the old mob movies where they dressed in suits all the time, straightening their ties after killing a guy.

“What type of inventory is that?”

Now this is the part I worked at nightly. How to convey what I’m interested in but also not say it out loud to sound like I’m a cop or something. “The kind that has a return on investment.” I hand him my card, which just has a burner number on it and my first name. No need to give these guys more info on me. Only enough to get me through the door. “Have your boss call me when he’s ready to bring in investors.”

I take the risk and walk away. It’s a bold move to show my back to them, but my hand is close to the knives under my jacket just in case. I’m able to make it to my car and drive aimlessly for an hour before I get a text from an unknown number.

Boss is willing to talk about investment.

Chapter 10 – Mad Max

“S

ettle your asses down.” Law bangs the scythe like a hammer on the table and the room quiets. For only an hour’s notice, Church is pretty packed. “Flint, start talking.”

“Picked up some chatter. Might be nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then why are we here? No offense, fellas, but I got a pretty face waiting on me, and I’d rather she sucks my cock than any of you.” Domino is starting to act like Bass now that he’s gone. Never knows when to keep his trap shut.

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