Page 2 of Framed for Life
Chester parks next to my bike and gets out of his car. He looks like shit. Nervous. Sweating. Flicking his beady eyes everywhere.
When I walk up on him he startles. “Fuck. How do you do that? You’re the size of a skyscraper and you manage to walk up on me every damned time.”
“This is a stupid drop. Get in your car. We ain’t doing anything here.”
Chester bleaches to the color of toilet paper. “Um. Uh. About that…”
This fucker.
I step close enough to block out the sun. “Your payment’s due today. This one time you get a bonus. Midnight tomorrow I don’t have your money, your shop becomes property of the Kings of Darkness.”
He squeaks, backing against his car. “But…”
I snarl at him. “Prez didn’t want to give you this chance but here we are. And once again, you’re a sorry piece of shit.”
He’s frozen. Jaw flapping as he tries to think of another lie.
“Get lost,” I growl. “I collect in money or blood tomorrow.”
The punk trips over his feet trying to get in his car. “I’ll have it,” he wheezes.
He’s sweating bullets as he backs out, leaving me standing on the asphalt.
Jesus. My fists itch to punchsomething.
“Oh, there you are,” the woman with the camera exclaims. “It’s time to get you in place.”
I hold up my hand like a giant stop sign. “Lady, you got the wrong guy.”
She looks at me as if I need a hug. “Oh goodness. You’re nervous.”
“Me?” My laugh is loud as thunder. “Sister, the last time I was nervous I was four. Then I outgrew everyone and I’ve been scaring the shit out of people since.”
Puzzled about her antics, I mutter under my breath and head to my bike. That’s when she latches onto my arm. Hanging on like a koala bear with her giant camera dangling from a strap around her neck.
“Please! You can’t leave. It’s just too hard. I hate telling them they’ve gotten stood up.”
I scratch my beard, looking down at this bizarre woman. Maybe she needs to be admitted.
“You on something? Cause if you need to go to rehab, I got some contacts.”
That goes right over her head.Figures.Druggies never admit shit.
I’m about to shake her off when a car whips into the parking lot. The thing is rattling itself to death.
“Oh my god,” Anna chokes. “There she is. Come on, we need to get you in place.”
I set her away from me, scowling. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
Head-case grabs her phone from her back pocket. “But you messaged that you’d be coming on your sport bike.”
My brows shoot up.
“Sport bike,” I grumble. “What you see right there, that’s a Harley. Not a crap Yamaha or something.”
She frowns, her whole body stiffens as she reads something on her phone.
“Oh no! She’s getting stood up. He cancelled.That idiot.”
