Chapter One
Antonio
Alwaysinthrees.
Three raps of Antonio’s knuckles against the wood of the doorframe.Three bells, tinkling as he passed from his garage into the lobby.Useless superstitions, and he knew it.But when you couldn’t find a gun, there was comfort in holding a stick.
“Yeah, you threw a rod,” he said to the slight woman sitting in one of the lobby’s worn chairs.
It should be good news for him; an engine rebuild on an old Thunderbird would keep the lights on.But all bets were off when the client was a friend.
Or, in the case of Clara, his parole officer.
“Can you fix it?”Clara asked, sounding way too chirpy considering the news, the early hour, and the fucking location.
People weren’t chirpy when their babied classic cars stopped running.Unless they thought they could get the work done for free.
“‘Fix,’ no.Rebuild the engine, yes.”Antonio forced himself not to scowl, fingers tapping against the side of his leg.“Look, ma’am, I’m happy to keep the old lady running smooth, but I don’t have the time to rebuild an engine gratis.Pretty sure you expect me to stay gainfully employed, and that means paying the rent on this place.”
“There’s no hurry,” Clara said, getting to her feet.“It’ll make a nice little side project for you.Keep you out of trouble.You can charge me for the parts.”
“Right.”Antonio’s smile hardly counted.“Happy to do it, ma’am.”
What choice did he have?What fucking choice did heeverhave?
“We’ve got a meeting in a few weeks.”Clara tossed the words over her shoulder, already at the door.Her gaze flicked up, and her voice lost some of its brightness.“Thought you said you were taking that thing down.”
Antonio followed her gaze to the doorframe.A horseshoe, nailed to the wall with cold iron.“Yeah, well, I need the luck.”
“You seeing your shrink, Antonio?”As usual, their meeting was whenever Clara fucking felt like it.
“Yeah.”
“Taking your meds?”
Antonio tapped out a rhythm against his counter and tried not to bounce in place.Of course, he hadn’t been taking his fucking meds.They didn’t make meds for ‘used to hang out in Faerie.’
“Yeah.”
“Good boy.”But Clara was still frowning up at the horseshoe.
“Thing is, one of my nieces gave it to me.Sister threw a fit when she came by and saw I didn’t have it up.”
Mentioning a sister was usually a safe bet.Clara considered them good influences.And sure enough, her frown shifted into a sunny smile.
“It’s good that you’ve been reconnecting with your family.I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah.See you.”
More bells, as Clara left.Three of them.
He didn’t have time to feel sorry for himself.Didn’t have time to stand there in the lobby, rubbing one of the heavy iron bracelets he always wore.But he was still standing there, staring at nothing, when the bells rang again.
“Good day!”said a feminine voice with the lilt of an accent.“I’m in a bit of a spot.May I speak with you a moment?”
Thank God, a hopefully paying customer.
“Morning,” he said, as he turned.“What’s the trouble?”
