Page 2 of Cast in Shadow
With only a block to go, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled in warning, seconds before two guys stepped out of the shadows.
Zeke recognized the two as enforcers for a local mobster who went by the name of Fat Tony. Fat Tony thought a lot of himself, but it was simply a case of a little bit of power going to a guy’s head. He was middle management in the grand scheme of things. He had neither the smarts nor the balls to be anything more. The only reason he was in the position he was, was because he’d married the boss’s sister.
Raguel might have had something to do with putting one of Fat Tony’s guys in the hospital when the guy had been squeezing the local mom-and-pop store a little too hard. Usually, Zeke charged a premium for side jobs, but that one, he’d done pro bono.
“The boss wants to have a word with you,” the shorter, stockier thug said.
Your boss, not my boss, you piece of shit. “About what?”
“Doesn’t fucking matter, does it?” asked the taller one. “The boss wants to talk, you come and talk.”
Zeke weighed his options, then nodded. “Sure. Yeah. I’m not doing anything anyway.”
The short guy chuckled. “See? I knew you were a smart guy. Didn’t I tell you he was a smart guy, Vin?”
* * *
Less than an hour later, Zeke was back to his original plan: grabbing his shit and ghosting.
No good deed goes unpunished, he murmured to himself. One of these days, he was going to learn his lesson. Still, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He’d always had a soft spot for underdogs.
He passed the diner on the way to the bus station and saw the girl who’d come into Snake’s shop earlier, sitting in front of the window, frowning at her phone. In openly seeking Raguel, she’d ensured his departure.
Raguel. The archangel of justice.
Zeke put his head down and continued on. He was no archangel, but he did have a problem with people who used their power and influence to hurt others. Like Fat Tony and his enforcers, who built their fortunes by extorting honest, hardworking people.
Their mantra: pay or pay.
It was the same everywhere. Big cities, small towns, the fucking US government. The rich and powerful wanted to stay that way and would do so by any means necessary, including destroying the lives of good people.
He’d seen it his whole life. First in the trailer park, where he’d spent a good part of his youth, then later in the service as a special ops man. He’d had a front row seat to more than one show. Even gotten to star in a few himself.
These days, he stuck to the shadows. He did his best work behind the scenes. Contract work was always available, and it helped him keep his skills sharp. The government had invested a lot in his training and development. Seemed a damn shame to let it all go to waste.
Zeke made it to the bus station and bought a ticket for the next coach out. The destination was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was being gone before someone discovered that his meeting with Fat Tony and the boys had ended badly—for them, obviously.
By the time he stepped off the bus ten hours later, he was two states away from where he’d started. He found a dive motel next to a fast-food place, paid cash, and got himself a room.
He took the necessary precautions, which included securing the room and crafting an escape plan. Both had become second nature. After getting a hot shower and wolfing down some food, he turned on the television and allowed himself to relax enough to fall into a deep sleep.
Chapter Two
Aggie
Aggie picked up the cash tip and slipped it into her pocket with one hand while wiping down the bar with the other. The night had passed without incident, and yet she couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that had been building over the past few hours. Her internal warning system hadn’t failed her yet, which meant something was going to happen soon.
She scanned the room again. Still dark. Still smoky. Nothing had changed in the five minutes since she’d last looked. The same guys were still playing pool and shooting darts, though they’d shifted their positions. People hung around the bar and at tables, bitching and moaning about their lives and jobs, drinking beer and eating deep-fried bar food to cope. Rochelle, the young server working the tables tonight, flirted shamelessly with one of the plant guys, laughing and playfully swatting his arm as he tugged her down onto his lap.
That same guy had propositioned Aggie just a short while before. He met her eyes over the server’s shoulder, palmed the young woman’s backside, and gave Aggie a wolfish grin, as if to say, This could have been you.
Aggie laughed and shook her head. The guy was a notorious flirt, but he was harmless. The female attention he got was freely given and, from the stories Aggie had heard from behind the bar, worth the effort.
The door opened, bringing in a cool rush of night air. Shouted greetings rang out when Sam entered the bar with a couple guys from his second-shift crew. He waved back and headed right to the bar.
“Hey,” he said to Aggie with a tired but genuine smile.
“Hey yourself.”
