CHAPTER 13
After Lucky stumbled out of the ring, Jimmy went three more good-natured rounds with one of their previous spectators.
Jimmy won each round.
Lucky pretended to watch, giving himself time to recover before he’d need to stagger out the door to his car.
He and Jimmy exited the gym together into full night. He’d spent more time than intended, and no doubt had missed supper. But he hadn’t lied, not really, when he’d said he was working with one of his trainees. Truth. Or close enough.
The air held a bit of chill, cooling his overheated flesh. He leaned against the wall, faking casual. If the wall moved, he’d face plant.
The scent of Chinese food wafted on the breeze. His stomach growled. Oh, but he could down a few egg rolls right now. Nope, not going to The Golden Wok ever again. Everywhere he looked he’d see Charlotte and Jimmy.
Flirting.
His appetite fled.
“Which way you heading? I’m parked down there.” Jimmy nodded toward a parking garage down the street. He walked way too easily, with no visible signs of fatigue at all.
“I found a spot on the street, right down that way.” Lucky pointed in the opposite direction. Even if they’d parked next to each other, they’d part company right here. Better to get the asshole gone. Lucky could only take so many steps before his limp became visible. Nothing on Jimmy’s background check even hinted at mixed martial arts. Time to run another check.
Lucky shrugged into his leather jacket. Jimmy didn’t wear a coat. Oh, yeah. For a guy from Virginia, the air likely seemed downright balmy.
A loudboom!split the night. Lucky flinched. Alarms sounded in the general direction of Lucky’s car. Flames shot into the sky two blocks away.
Dropping his gym bag on the sidewalk, he sprinted toward his car.
Jimmy passed him. “Is that your Camaro?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Shock and pain made Lucky gasp. He paused far enough away to catch his breath, but close enough to feel the heat. Hands on his knees, he sucked in air that didn’t seem to reach his lungs. His car. His motherfucking car.
No part of the Camaro remained untouched. The ride he’d loved and owned for so long sat fully engulfed. Whoever’d torched it used one hell of an accelerant.
This couldn’t be happening. His car, refurbished as a gift from Bo. No going back. Nothing left. Whoever tormented him would not be happy when they met face to face. He’d rather his car go up in flames than his sister or family be hurt, but whoever was behind this planned each target for maximum effect.
They might not mean to kill him outright, at the moment, merely send a message.
“I know where you are and can take you out any time I want,”the message said. Yes, a sniper could have him in crosshairs right this minute.
Numbness wouldn’t let him care.
Then again, if he’d left the gym directly after his match with Jimmy…
He hobbled into the shadows, taking a lay of the land. He’d have to wait for the report, find out what they’d used, but whoever’d destroyed his car didn’t play.
Sirens rapidly approached, then silenced.
Two uniformed officers got out of their car, forcing the gathering crowd back. More sirens, and the heavyBrrrrrp!of a tanker horn, and a firetruck joined the fray.
He’d get a copy of witness statements later. The library and store nearest the car closed two hours ago, and one cop stood at the door of the liquor store across the street, questioning a man in a Captain Morgan T-Shirt. With all the signs displayed in the window, the guy likely hadn’t seen much.
Lucky’s car.
Someone finally silenced the alarm from a car sitting too close for comfort.
Jimmy stood beside him, arms folded across his chest.
“Sir, is this your car?” one of the firemen asked.
