Page 35 of Iron Heart

“Yep. Ready to get to work.” Dom gives Ranger his best movie-star grin. “This could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”

“Dante says you’re sure you got the capacity. You a solo operation for now?”

“Just until I get up and running. I got some good business prospects lined up. Just a matter of time!” Dom shows his teeth again. A young waitress appears with his slice of apple pie, and he gives her a wink as she sets it down in front of him.

I shove down a wave of irritation. Dom’s in rare form today. He’s got this thing where the more fucked-up his life is, the more confident swagger he shows. Maybe it’s a gambler thing. It’s his tell, if you know how to look for it. First time I saw it was not long after he graduated high school, when he got involved in some shady business with some local shitheads selling stolen electronics out of the back of their truck. For a couple months, he was strutting around town with new clothes and a thousand-dollar watch hangin’ off his arm, acting like the cock of the walk.

Then one day, the cops ran down the thieves in their truck and threw all their asses in jail. Dante pulled his first disappearing act and skipped town. With about half the balance of our ma’s meager savings account. Which of course, she forgave him for. Because family is family.

Right now, he’s got his act turned up to eleven.

My stomach goes sour at the thought.

Ranger sticks around as I wait for Dom to finish his coffee and pie, and I pick up the tab for all three of us.

“Come on.” Dom points. “Come take a look at the truck.”

We cross the street to the large parking lot that serves most of the businesses in this part of downtown. The truck is parked in the middle, straddling a couple of spots.

“Well?” Dom says proudly. “What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a refrigerator truck,” I growl.

It’s in rough shape, looks like. But it’s big enough to transport anything we need to move. It ain’t flashy, but it’s good cover, especially if and when Dom gets some legitimate contracts with organic farmers and shit, like he says he’s going to.

“Solid enough,” Ranger remarks, nodding. “And yeah, it looks legit. It’ll work.”

“You want to ride with me to the clubhouse?” Dom asks me. “Or you want me to follow you?”

“I’ll take my bike, and you can follow me,” I tell him. “I wanna…”

I trail off, my attention suddenly distracted by a familiar figure crossing the street to the parking lot on the other side. It’s Tori. And she’s with that fuckin’ Pretty Boy from the paper. My muscles tense at the sight of the two of them together — but a second later, he peels off and goes to a car that must be his. Tori continues on, heading to a spot toward our right.

Maybe sensing she’s being watched, Tori glances over in our direction. Her eyes meet mine.

I lift my finger in a wave. Her steps slow for a second, like she’s deciding whether to come over. Then she changes course and starts walking toward us.

Beside me, Dom whistles. “Fuck me, who the hell isthat?”

“She’s uh, a customer of mine,” I mutter. “I’m doing some rewiring on her house.”

“She ain’t from around here, is she?” Ranger remarks.

Dom’s lips curve into a feral grin. “Jesus Christ, what a hot piece of ass.”

I can practically see his fuckin’ testosterone surge at the sight of her. A tidal wave of anger rises up inside me before I even realize what’s happening.

“She’s fuckin’ off limits, you hear me?” I snarl, rounding on him so fast he takes a step back in surprise. “She ain’t one of your fuck bunnies.”

“What the hell, brother?” Dom yelps. His wide eyes narrow as he considers me. “You tappin’ that?”

“No,” I growl. “And you ain’t either.”

“Oh, I get it, you want her for yourself, is that it? What, did she shut your ass down?” He snickers. “You’re losin’ your touch, bro. I remember a time where all you had to do was snap your fingers and every girl in town would come running.”

“Fuck you. She ain’t your piece of meat. You got that?”

Dom opens his mouth to say something to me, but Tori’s in earshot now so he has the decency to shut the hell up.

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