“In here!” Jimmy called from somewhere deeper in the building.
Quinn walked through the closest open doorway into a space with crates and boxes.
Jimmy peered out from what must’ve been his office in the back corner. “Here.”
Quinn flashed him a smile. “This place is a bit of a maze, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I changed my mind about the layout after it was already built, so I got stuck with the back of it for my office.” Jimmy shrugged casually.
He seemed relaxed, which felt a bit weird, but Quinn wasn’t going to question it nor would he let his guard down.
He sat in a visitor’s chair and Jimmy went to his leather chair behind his desk. It was all less fancy than Quinn had envisioned, but maybe this was just a temporary location?
“I would’ve come to gather you from the front, but I didn’t hear your car,” Jimmy said, raising his brow in question.
“Oh, I saw Brody’s gates were open so I left my car there. I wasn’t sure if you had any deliveries coming in so I thought better stay out of the way,” Quinn replied casually. “It’s weird to see how little this town has really changed.”
“Yeah, didn’t his dad own the junkyard before him?” Jimmy leaned back in his chair, settling in.
“Yeah, it’s still the same, I guess. I talked to him in town a while back. He just took over and that’s it. Brody was never that ambitious.” Quinn shrugged.
Jimmy hummed. “So, I wanted to talk to you because a little birdie told me you were thinking about leaving town?”
This was it, Quinn thought. He had no idea what Jimmy knew or thought he knew. Only one way to find out.
“Yeah, I’ve done what I came here to do, you know? The funeral is done, you’re in charge now. What would I stay here for?” Technically all true. Ish.
Jimmy mulled over the words, then sighed. “I was going to ask you to stay, actually.”
Quinn couldn’t help the way his eyes widened. “What?”
Chuckling, Jimmy shook his head. “Shit, youreallyweren’t here to take over, were you?”
“No, I’ve been honest from the start, Jimmy. I never fucking wanted the family business, why’d you think I left?”
“I thought it was because your mom made you.” Jimmy grinned, and for a moment there was a flash of the friend Quinn had had as a kid in the face of the man who had become his enemy.
Quinn laughed. “Yeah, well that’s a big part of it for sure. But like I said, I didn’t want this. Still don’t.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” Jimmy grunted. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stick around and be my, well, Arthur.”
The sound of a motorcycle filtered through the warehouse then, and Jimmy frowned.
“Shit, give me a sec, I wasn’t expecting them tonight.”
“Yeah, sure.” Quinn waved a hand and tried to look relaxed.
Jimmy got up and went through the door to talk to his guest. Quinn sat in the chair and wondered how to get out of this. He could just go out after Jimmy and make his excuses, but he had a gut feeling that wouldn’t be smart.
So he waited.
After maybe five minutes, Jimmy came back, his cell phone in his hand and looking annoyed.
“Sorry about that,” he said, closed the door behind himself before sitting again.
“One of the Skulls?” Quinn asked, carefully stepping on what he knew to be very thin ice.
Jimmy put the cell on the desk and leaned back, huffing wryly. “Yeah.” Then he rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head.“Shit.”
