‘I’ll make it real simple for you. Two things. One, you held a race last night and you involved Gianna, and whatever concerns her, concerns me.’ I pause, enjoying how his eyes dart anywhere but on mine. The thing about silence is that it makes people very uncomfortable, and I enjoy making him uncomfortable. I lean in close, the movement causing him to jerk back in a hilarious show of fear. ‘And the second, we both know you’re not the brains behind this. Who are you collecting money for? I want the name of who’s in charge.’
Ash from my cigarette falls between his shirt and skin. The way he dances around trying to remove the hot ash pulls at my lips. I wait a moment for a response.
Two.
Three.
When I raise my fist, he’s finally quick to say, ‘Landon! His name’s Landon.’
‘And?’
‘And I have an address,’ Alexander sighs.
‘Give it to me.’
I pull out my phone and press it into his quivering hands. He punches in the address. ‘He’ll also be at the next Tropics,’ he mumbles. When he hands my phone back, I seean address in the same industrial area he’s been loitering around in Empire City.
‘This the chop shop?’
‘Midnight Spares,’ he hastily clarifies.
‘Midnight Spares,’ I repeat. ‘And why are you looking to repaint a pristine Porsche?’
‘Look, man,’ he pleads, desperation oozing from his pores. ‘I just do what I’m told. I owe him money and—’
‘Save it.’ I cut him off, impatience itching at my skin. I need to get to Midnight Spares and see it for myself. ‘I don’t care about your problems. One more thing.’ I turn away, walking back to the front of the garage. ‘You’ll stay away from the girl.’
‘Like I care about some pathetic pussy? She just needed to paint the car.’
My next step falters.
This fucker must have switched his brain to airplane mode.Red-hot rage surges through my head and heat consumes my insides. He’s really testing my patience.
I bide my time as I turn back toward him. Like a rat sensing danger, his eyes flicker before going round. Those slow cogs seem to kick into overdrive and his panicked gaze flickers behind me. I turn my head, taking in the ice grey Porsche 911 Turbo sitting pretty by the kerb.
Perfect.
‘And whose car is this?’ I ask, already walking toward it.
‘No, no!’ he screams, frantically limping in front of me. ‘Please don’t. Not the car.’
You’re kidding.He’s begging harder for his car right now than he did for himself.
‘Please, really. Erik would—’ He stops like he’s realised he’s said a name he shouldn’t have.
I grip his shirt, shaking him. ‘Erik?What about him?’
Alexander’s bottom lip quivers as he shakes his head. Tears and snot run down his face and I shake him again.
‘Tell me about Erik! Are you and Landon both working for him? Where is he?’ I demand, but Alexander just crumbles into a blubbering mess.
I release him. This revelation is too big. If Alexander is both working for Landon and involved with Erik, we’re closer than I thought. I charge over to the Porsche while Alexander blubbers behind me.
When I open the hood, I’m not surprised when I see Gianna was right: the VIN is scratched smooth.
‘Did she come out and check this?’ I ask.
He shakes his head.
