A few others grouped up between us, naturally breaking our line of sight and ending the stalemate.
Some Vultures I knew from the clubhouse eyed me and then their rival. I took another look at the parking lot.
I’d worked on six of the ten bikes out there.Four unknowns.
Last time it had been two. And we were right in the middle of Vulture territory.
There shouldn’t be a single Hellhound for twenty miles. But there they stood, bold as brass and acting like they owned the place.
I brushed off the shiver snaking down my spine and opened the battered wooden door. The scent of oil and decrepit building soothed the last of the fear away, and I gave Grady a tight-lipped smile. “You have it?”
Grady, pushing seventy and still trying to act twenty, smiled back and handed over a paper sack with a wink. “Pulled it myself.”
Great. Grady imagined himself as some great mechanic, but since he’d started losing his eyesight a couple years ago it was a fifty-fifty shot on whether the part would be right or not. ‘
I opened the bag to check and pushed down a sigh. “Thanks, Grady.” Closing the bag, I tucked it into my pocket. “Listen, I have another bike rattling around. Pretty sure it just needs a spark plug. Any chance I could poke around for a few minutes to see if you have one? It would save me a ton of time.” And I could pull the part I actually needed without hurting Grady’s feelings.
Poor old guy couldn’t help it, but he’d given me a useless, completely stripped wire off a battery instead of the one I needed.
Grady frowned and scrubbed a knobby knuckle down his grizzled cheek. “Well, I dunno. I don’t usually let people back there.”
Uh-huh. I’d seen at least a dozen men come and go through that junkyard in the last month alone. I arched my eyebrows and crossed my arms. “You trying to hide something from me, Grady?”
“Not me.” He held both hands up and took a step back. “You want back there, go on. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You didn’t.” I shake my head and mutter on my way to the junkyard.
Ten minutes later, I’ve found the wire I needed and pulled a decent spark plug to show Grady if he asks. I doubt he will, but better if I cover all my bases than risk hurting a harmless old man’s feelings.
Grady waved at me as I walked past, but he’s holding a phone to his ear and doesn’t bother grilling me about my time in the junkyard.
I’ve already swung my leg over my bike when I look down and realize the front tire is sitting lower than it should. Low…and flat.
Dread curdled my stomach, pinching it tight into a hard ball.
I leaned forward and to the side to check for a leak and found a long gash in the sidewall.
My head snapped up, gaze drawing tight as I scanned the group standing at the door.
Different men from when I arrived. No one looked my way or even acted like I existed.
Smart.
Do it clean, fast, and walk away like nothing happened.
I’d seen Wade operate the same way.
He’d smile at a man while stabbing him in the back.
The parallel turned my stomach more than the flat.
It had taken some balls to slash my tire in front of witnesses and in broad daylight.
Which meant it might have been a Vulture who did it. I’d felt the tension growing in the clubhouse.
It was another reason I’d started sleeping elsewhere. No one bothered me, but I didn’t feel like anyone protected me either.
Fuck. I can’t drive on a flat, and I don’t trust any of the tires on the bikes I saw in the junkyard. I don’t have much choice but to call Hawk and tell him what happened.
