Page 8 of Fiend
VINCENT
“Where the fuck is he?”My temper is flaring to dangerously high levels as I grip the steering wheel, twisting my hands around. “Mike said he was here.”
“Vincent, it’s been years since the accident. The fact that we fucking found anything at all is lucky.” I glare over at Leo, and he gives me a smartass smile in return. Fucking asshole.
“I’m well aware, Leo. But still.”
“You need to learn to calm the fuck down sometimes. We’ll find him.” I glare over at Leoagainand find him staring down at his phone with a thoughtful expression. Almost… pained. Worried.
“What the fuck is up with you? And that look on your face?”
“Shut the fuck up, Vin.” He holds down the power button on his phone and pockets it once the screen goes black. When he’s done, he glances over at me to find me already staring. “Oh, fucking hell. Would you quit?”
“You’re distracted. We don’t fucking need that,” I bite out. I swear to fucking God, if he puts this at risk—usat risk—I’ll kill him myself.
“Goddamn, Vincent!” Leo’s loud voice booms through the car. He twists his massive frame in the passenger side of the black Toyota Camry we’re using for this job—my last job.
“You just have to know everything going on in my life, don’t you? As if yours isn’t a fucking mess,” he grumbles.
My eyes widen, affronted. “Okay, that’s—”
“Jaxon and I will never fucking work. There’s too much between us for it to ever happen.” He sounds so resigned, and I feel a frown pulling at my lips. I’ve never seen Leo appear so fucking defeated. So…not Leo.
Come to think of it, I’ve never seen the beast anything other than confident. Strong. A motherfucking brute—in business. But with me, he’s always been a little different, and I think that he sees me sort of as a son—in a way.
Our age difference isn’t big enough for him to actually be a father to me, but I think, simply because of the circumstances of how we met, it set our relationship in stone. We’re more best friends than anything, but there are times when he takes on more of a caretaker or father-figure role.
It pisses me off, and he knows that, but I can admit there are times when I need itandhim.
And right now, I think he needs me, but fuck me if I know what the fuck to do.
“Why not?” I ask, lighting up another cigarette because I don’t know what else to do. I feel out of my element, but it’s distracting me from the anger of having to wait for Trey Conley.
“Secrets, Vincent. Motherfucking secrets.” He sighs and runs his fingertips over his brows before rubbing his tattooed temples in small circles. I stare at him for a moment, trying to process what he said.
Is he keeping secrets from me, too? Me of all fucking people? Or only Jax?
“Quit fucking thinking about it. I told you because you won’t leave it alone. Not because I want you to know jack shit.” My gaze hardens on him. The tattoos running up his neck to behind his ears move as he shrugs his shoulders in a noncommittal way.
“Well, how the fuck am—”
“Fuck me, there he is,” Leo blurts out, and my blood instantly heats to a deadly level before my eyes even lock on the motherfucker I know Leo is talking about.
With all thoughts of our conversation gone at the drop of a dime, I turn back to stare out of the windshield. It’s drizzling outside, obscuring my view, but not enough to where I can’t see the scraggly bitch walking across the small parking lot.
We’re sitting across the street from a small, nondescript autobody shop. The stupid cunt finally brought his car here to get fixed after two years. How fucking stupid can he be? Luckily for us, he doesn’t know one traffic cam caught him as he fled away that early morning—right outside of Le Grande.
It took Mike a while to be able to get the footage, but once he did, he sent it over, and we’ve just been waiting. And waiting. And fuckin’ waiting. Until now, when Mike called four days ago to let me know the local P.D.—who had a description of the car—caught sight of it while Trey was bringing it to this shop.
It’s been a whole lot of fucking luck and pull within the department here—along with a shit ton of money—but here we are.
I startle when the butt of my cigarette burns my lips. I release my death grip on the wheel to smash it into the ashtray, not realizing it was gone and now burning the filter.
I chance a quick glance over at Leo. His lips are drawn into a tight line as his eyes track every step Trey takes. I shift my gaze back to him and do the same, watching as he pulls open the door and steps out of sight.
“You ready?” I ask without moving my eyes from that door. It’s afternoon now, but the sky is covered in a thick blanket of clouds with the constant drizzle of rain, making the day appear darker. It’s dangerous to do this during the daylight, but then again, this whole fucking thing is dangerous, and I don’t really give a fuck.
It has to be now. As if on cue, “Berzerk” by Eminem pounds through the speakers, and I smirk, feeling my blood surge and a twitch in my cock.
