Page 80 of Furious
“Your friend Fox here,” Morelli says, suddenly serious. “Might have exaggerated his skills when he pitched me the idea of the races. The fact that you two beat him ended up costing me some of the profits I was counting on. If you two agreed to race for the house and be on my payroll, I would make it worth your while. At that point, it wouldn’t matter if you won or lost, you’d get paid, anyway. And we could make sure that victories are spread evenly, to keep the odds interesting for our players. What do you say? If you agree, I’ll double what you’re getting right now.”
Why am I not surprised that he’s practically talking about fixing the races?
Lev responds before I can. “No. Racing for you is the last thing we want, Morelli. As it is, we don’t want to keep this up. Chance and I are hoping to play professional hockey one day. If we got caught, we could jeopardize our future. We were actually hoping you could name a price to agree to destroy the videos Dave is holding over our heads to force us to race.”
He laughs in our faces. I guess we were fools to hope that it was possible to make some kind of deal, either with Calvin or Mason.
“Why would I do that?”he asks when he finally calms down. “First off, you’re the ones people want to see racing. And besides, you’re our insurance policy. You’re the mayor’s son. Your brother is a cop, for fuck’s sake. If we get caught, I’m sure the sheriff will be way more lenient with your asses on the line.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “If that’s what you think, you haven’t been in town long enough to know my dad and the sheriff. If we got caught, they would make an example out of us.”
I can’t be sure of it, but it’s exactly the kind of thing I think Dad would do.
There’s a beat of silence in the barbershop.
Then Mason calls my bluff. “I fucking doubt it, Hunter. There’s no amount of money that would make me consider letting you off the hook. Unless…”
I don’t know why I have the feeling I’m about to walk into a trap. “Unless what?”
Mason looks at me and Lev as if he was assessing a pig for the prize hog competition at the county fair. “Unless you can bring me JJ Smith.”
Another look passes between me and Lev. Then it’s confirmed that the black Ducati that crossed the finish line first two weeks ago and was about to win last week, belongs to the same guy who was involved in the accident that cost my brother his life in Bridgeport.
I had the feeling it might have been the same guy, but I wasn’t entirely sure until now. The Ducati Panigale is a fairly rare bike, but not unique. So in theory, it could have been a different guy, but I felt it in my gut that it wasn’t.
“Bring you JJ Smith?” Lev asks. “The guy signed up for the race, right? Why didn’t you talk to him then?”
“Because until I saw him race, I had no idea that he was the best driver on that track. I don’t know if you realized it, but he slowed down on purpose. If he hadn’t, he would have won therace like he did the first time, when you lost control of your bike, Hunter. And when I went looking for him last time, he had disappeared and so had his girlfriend. I spoke to Dave, and he told me that Smith didn’t appear on the starting line until it was time to go. He didn’t even sign up. He got his girl to do that for him and pay the fee. So it’s quite obvious that the guy wants to remain anonymous. If you can get him to come to talk to me and to race for me, I’ll let you go.”
Lev doesn’t sound convinced and I don’t blame him. “Why don’t you go after him?”
“Have you seen how fast that Ducati can go? I’m not a rider, so I’d have no chance of catching up with him. I’d get Cal to do it, but my Nonna on a Vespa would be able to beat him.”
Fox takes offense. “Hey. I’m standing right here.”
“And you’re fucking slow, man.” Mason glares at him. “This whole racing thing was your idea, and you and your brother helped me secure Hunter and Reilly’s presence on the track. But that’s the only reason why you’re still involved in it. As a racer, you’re mediocre at best.”
I can’t say that I disagree with him. If Morelli and his family didn’t have a dangerous reputation, I would probably like him.
“We can get you a conversation with Smith,” I say. “But Smith vanishes after every race. I doubt he’s going to be interested in your offer. You can’t expect us to convince him to do anything.”
Morelli considers my words. “Fine. All you have to do is bring him to me.”
“Yeah?” I’m surprised he caved so easily. “You guarantee me that you won’t go back on your word if he says no?”
The corners of his lips curl into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah. I’m sure I’m going to find a way to get Smith to agree to race for me.”
I’m about to ask him how does he think he’s going to do that, since we know nothing about this Smith guy, but the words die in my mouth. The dangerous glint in Mason’s eyes tells me that it’s probably best if I don’t know.
“So we have a deal?” Lev asks. “We bring you Smith, and whether he races for you or not, you’re going to let us walk away without sharing that video of us racing with the mayor?”
“Sure.” He offers his hand for us to shake.
Lev is even more diffident than I am.
“We’ll need you to destroy that video too once we make sure you get to talk to Smith.”
