by L. Wilder
“Good. Glad to hear that we’re finally on the same page. So, what are we going to do about it?”
“First, we need to know who the hell broke into that warehouse. See what you can find out, and then we’ll go from there.”
“And Frankie?”
Nitro just shook his head. “Before this is all said and done, we’re gonna have to weed him out. But for now, we need to get Jay to keep an eye on him—at least until we get this shit settled. He’s a smart kid. If he plays his cards right, he’ll be my first choice to take the reins.”
While Jay was young, he was ex-military, with a specialty in handling roughnecks. I thought he’d make a good replacement for Frankie, but like Nitro said, he’d have to play his cards right. The guy gave new meaning to the term player . He always had a string of ladies at his beck and call, especially the married ladies, and they always seemed eager to please where he was concerned. To fill Frankie’s spot, he’d have to get his priorities straight and limit his distractions, but if he set his mind to it, I had no doubt he could do the job and do it well.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll head over to the warehouse now and see what I can find out.”
He nodded, then added, “Ryder is already there. Catch him up to speed and get back to me.”
I jumped in my car and drove over to the warehouse. By the time I arrived, Ryder was already in the building, but he wasn’t hard to find. He was a big guy at 6’4” with a large, athletic build, and he was known for his short fuse. Like me, he hated dealing with bullshit, and I could tell by his angry expression, he wasn’t happy about being called to deal with Frankie. He was standing beside a cargo trailer that had been tagged with spray paint; not only was it covered with dents, the doors had been ripped off the back. I looked around the warehouse and found that there were several more like it, each with its own symbol painted over the crumpled metal. “Fuck.”
“You got that right. Looks like your guy, Frankie, did something that really pissed some motherfucker off.” Ryder snickered. “Just gotta wonder what he did this time.”
“There’s no telling,” I grumbled as I started looking through all of the destruction.
Ryder came up behind me, peeking over my shoulder as I checked the damage on the third trailer. “So, what is it with this guy? What’s he doing to piss everybody off?”
“Just like Murray works with you and Bennett to make sure all our overseas distributions go without a hitch, he’s supposed to do the same thing here with our cross-country distribution. The problem is, he isn’t maintaining his trucks, and they keep breaking down. He’s over-running his drivers, which gets them flagged for too many hours, and the delays are fucking up everything. And it’s not just our people he’s dealing with. This motherfucker is transporting shit his old man would’ve never touched. It’s all catching up with him, and we’re stuck cleaning up his fucking mess.”
“So, what are we going to do about it?”
“I figure we got two choices. Find someone else to take over, or find someone else for our land distribution. Neither are going to be easy.”
As we continued to search the area, we were coming up empty-handed, then Ryder asked, “Hey, has that always been there?”
When I looked over to him, he was pointing to some graffiti that was painted on the back wall. After a closer look, I realized it was a gang sign. I took a step back and glanced at the other graffiti painted on the trailers. From the angle where I was standing, I able to see that together, they all made a larger, almost three-dimensional gang sign. While we’d gotten the lead we needed, I knew we had real trouble on our hands. There were all kinds of gangs—those that were small and insignificant and those that were continually growing in numbers and were known for retaliation and violence. Unfortunately for Frankie, the gang that had just totaled his warehouse was one of the worst in the state. I looked over to Ryder and said, “This isn’t good.”
“Fuck! What the hell happened?” Jay asked as he stepped into the warehouse. He looked like an old-school mafia guy with his black suit, flashy watch, and trademark diamond rings. And I found myself wondering if he was truly the right one to step up into Frankie’s position.
“Frankie,” Ryder clipped. “Any idea what kind of business he was doing with the Blades?”
“Damn. I told him to steer clear of those guys.” He ran his hand through his perfectly combed hair. “One of them had contacted him a few weeks ago about transporting a shit-ton of coke to East LA. There was no way we could move that kind of stash. You know how it is. There’s only so many places that we can hide that shit.”
“You didn’t know he’d moved forward with the deal?” I asked.
“Hell, no. The last time we talked about it, he told me that he’d decided against it.”
“Then, it’s time we had a chat with Frankie.”
After we told Nitro what we’d found, Ryder and I set out to find Frankie. He’d been squirreled away in his office since he’d contacted Nitro, which only meant he was too chicken-shit to show his face back at the warehouse. He knew he’d fucked up again, and this time, there would be consequences. When we walked in, he looked up from his desk with a concerned look on his face. “Did you find out anything?”
He had told Nitro that he had no idea who’d fucked with the warehouse, but we all knew he was lying. “We did.”
“And?”
The color drained from his face when I asked, “How did you fuck up with the Blades?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Stop playing stupid, Frankie!” I growled. “Don’t you know that tonight was just the fucking start with these guys?”
“I know.” He sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “The truck that was carrying their cargo got held up at a weigh station outside of Portland.”
“You’re telling me that he barely got out of the state before he was held up at the fucking weigh station?”
“Yeah … There were some issues with the truck and …”
“What kind of issues?”
“It got called in for being overloaded, and during inspection, they noticed that the tire tread was low. So, they declared it out-of-service. I’m sending in another one of my guys to pick up the freight.”
“And what happens if someone starts sniffing around?”
“That’s not going to happen, but if they do, they won’t find anything. They never do.”
“That’s because you’ve been lucky, Frankie.”
“No. I know how to handle my freight. And you don’t have to worry about the Blades. I’ll handle them,” he grumbled. “I just need some time.”
“That’s just it, Frankie. You’ve run out of time.”
CHAPTER 12
Harper
T he key to finding happiness is accepting where you are and making the best of it; at least, that’s what my mom used to tell me. Over the past ten years, I’d done that. I’d accepted the fact that Max wasn’t going to be in my life, and I’d moved on. I found a job that I loved, and even met someone who was good to me and loved me despite all of my apprehensions. I’d found my happiness—or at least, l thought I had. Spending the night talking with Max had me questioning just how truly happy I really was, especially with Daniel. I hated myself for having doubts. I’d worked too hard to get over my past, and I couldn’t let one night with Max ruin that. Trying my best to block him from my mind, I cleaned the kitchen, washed a load of clothes, and organized everything in my cabinets. By the time I was done, it was after eleven, but I was still feeling restless. I knew there was no way I’d be able to go to sleep, so I got out my laptop and tried once again to get some writing done.
It wasn’t easy, but after an hour of forcing myself to focus, I started to make progress. With each page, I found myself getting more and more into the story, and without even realizing it, I’d spent the entire night writing. The sun was just starting to come up as I finished one of the hardest chapters in the book. It was one thing to think up
all these different scenarios, but it was entirely another thing to actually put them into words, especially when I felt like I genuinely knew my characters. When I wrote, it was as if I was a part of their world, and they were simply sharing their story with me. But it was all coming to an end. The chapter I’d just completed was the build up to the climax of my entire series, and my lead character had found herself in a precarious situation. She was my favorite heroine and I didn’t want her to die, but I couldn’t think of any other way around it.
I needed a second opinion, so I sent my new chapters to Claudia. Out of all my beta readers, she was the toughest. In a matter of hours, she could completely shred what I’d written, telling me everything she thought should be done differently, and while I didn’t always agree with her, it was good to have another person’s perspective. I sent her a message, letting her know that I emailed the book to her; I hoped that she wouldn’t take too long to get back to me.
As soon as I turned off my computer, I forced myself to go to bed. My eyes were burning from exhaustion, so it didn’t take much time for me to fall asleep. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to rest very long. After just a couple of hours of sleep, I heard someone making a crazy amount of racket on my front porch. The last thing I wanted to do was get out of my warm, comfortable bed, but the incessant drilling and pounding was impossible to ignore. Deciding I needed to see what the hell was going on, I pulled back the covers and begrudgingly headed into the kitchen. When I peeked out the side window, I spotted Max setting up a ladder on my front porch. He was wearing a pair of worn-out jeans with work boots, and there was a tool belt wrapped around his waist. I marveled at his large, muscular body as he started up the ladder. While the sight was pleasing to the eyes, I couldn’t help but be aggravated by the fact that he’d taken it upon himself to work on my cabin without telling me what he was doing. I didn’t even try to hide my irritation as I flung open the door. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Morning, beautiful,” he greeted me with a big, innocent smile, like it wasn’t a big deal that he was up on my roof. “Did you sleep well?”
“Max,” I grumbled. “What are you doing up there ?”
“Nothing much. Just doing a little project for Barry.”
He fired up his drill once again and continued working like I wasn’t even standing there. Annoyed as hell, I asked, “What do you mean Barry? The owner ?”
“Yep. He’d be the one,” he answered nonchalantly as he continued to work.
When I stepped out onto the porch to see what he was doing, the cold air made me wish again that I was still in my warm, comfy bed. I let out an exasperated groan as I looked up on the roof. As soon as I spotted the security light and camera, I knew that this little project had more to do with him and less to do with Barry. “So, out of the blue, he asked you to come out here and put up security cameras?”
With a wink, he shrugged his shoulders. “More or less.”
I looked at the cabin next to mine and noticed that it too had new security lights and cameras, along with several others. I could’ve pressed him more about why he was really putting them up, but I was just too cold and too tired to care. “Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee or something when you’re done?”
“Wish I could, but I can’t right now.” He looked down at me with a smile. “How about a raincheck?”
“A raincheck will work. You know where to find me.” As I started back inside, I told him, “Be careful up there.”
“Gonna try.”
I went back inside, and after I made myself a cup of coffee and a bite to eat, I walked over to my laptop to see if Claudia had messaged me back. I logged into my messenger and was pleased to see that she’d responded.
Claudia:
I just finished reading. I liked it.
I learned early on that with Claudia there was a huge difference between liking and loving something she’d read. When she loved it, she couldn’t stop gushing about how wonderful it was, but if she liked it, I would have my work cut out for me. She always tried to be tactful, but she didn’t have a problem telling me exactly how she felt. Preparing for the worst, I continued reading.
Claudia:
I always thought there was something up with David. He was just too good to be true. I’m glad to see I was right about that.
Claudia:
But you might want to go back to the scene where Teresa is in his office. Something just felt a little off.
Claudia:
And I thought his secretary was older?
Claudia:
What about that neighbor? He’s a great character. Since he’s right there and keeps an eye on things, wouldn’t he know something about the husband?
Claudia:
I know you are wanting to finish the book, but don’t rush it. I look forward to reading more.
I read over her messages several times, and I was surprised by how short they were. Usually, they were extremely detailed and a little over the top, so I wondered if there was something going on. While they seemed a little different than her previous messages, I still appreciated her taking the time to read the book and make suggestions, so I wrote her back.
Me:
Thank you so much for getting back to me so quickly. I really appreciate all your help.
Claudia:
Don’t mention it. Were they helpful?
Me:
Of course. They always are.
Claudia:
Are you still out of town?
Me:
Yes. I’ll be staying here for a while. It really helps to have fewer distractions.
Claudia:
I can tell. You got a lot done over the past couple of days.
Me:
It’s really great up here. My cabin is right on the water. It’s so beautiful and quiet!
Claudia:
Can you receive mail there?
Me:
I think so. Why?
Claudia:
Remember those promotional things I’ve been working on for you?
Me:
The postcards and magnets?
Claudia:
Yes. I have the first markups done. I wanted to go on and send them to you, so you can see if you like them.
Me:
You can send them to the office.
Claudia:
I’d feel better sending them to you. The last time I sent you something, it took weeks for you to get it.
Me:
I remember that. You can send them to 285 Whiskey Creek Dr, Cabin #3, Port Angeles, WA 67304
Claudia:
Great. I’ll send them out this morning. Just let me know which ones you like best, and I’ll get them ready for you.
Me:
Thank you so much for doing that. It will really help to have them at my next signing.
Claudia:
No need to thank me. Now, get back to writing. I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.
Me:
Will do. I’ll be in touch soon.
I leaned back in my chair and smiled as I thought back to the day that Claudia first messaged me. At first, I didn’t know what to think. Unlike my other readers, her message was more like an attack than a friendly hello, but after reading it, I realized that she had some really good insights to my second book. I messaged her back to thank her, and we’d been corresponding back and forth ever since. We’d become friends, and I valued her opinions. After I went through my other messages, I started going through each of Claudia’s comments. As usual, she was right.
The next morning, as I was busy working on the book, there was a knock at my door. When I went to see who it was, I was greeted by a delivery man with a large bouquet of wild flowers. I found myself smiling like a school girl as I took them and rushed inside, placing the glass vase on the kitchen table. Thinking they might be from Max, I quickly opened the card, only to find that Claudia had sent them. Her note encouraged me once again to take my time with the book and not rush,
so instead of being disappointed that they weren’t from Max, I decided to take her advice. I spent the next few days rewriting and focusing on each chapter, and not rushing to get to the end.
By the time I was done, I felt like my eyes were crossing and the walls were closing in on me. I was still in my pajamas from the night before, so I went in my room and changed. After I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and gave myself a quick check in the mirror, I decided I needed more than a quick walk on the beach. I hadn’t seen anyone in days, including Max, and I was craving a cheese burger, so I got in my car and headed towards town. Half an hour later, I found myself sitting at the same restaurant where I’d seen Max for the first time. I told myself it had nothing to do with him, that I just needed a break from the cabin and I was hungry, but as I sat at my table alone, I found myself constantly checking the bar to see if he was there.
My waitress had taken my order, and I was waiting for her to bring over my glass of tea when the beautiful, brunette bartender approached my table. She cocked her head to the side and gave me a bright, friendly smile. “Hey, I’m Tristen.”
“Hi, Tristen. I’m Harper.” I was a little surprised that she’d come over to talk to me. While I found her sudden presence a little strange, it was clear by the expression on her face that she had something on her mind. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You were in here the other night, right?”
“Yes.” I answered.
Her blue eyes flashed with intrigue as she asked, “I thought that was you. You were the one who was talking to Max?”
Damn. I could feel the train wreck coming at full steam ahead, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. To make matters worse, it was completely my fault. I’d never asked Max if he was seeing anyone, mainly because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer, so I had no way of knowing if she was his girlfriend, or worse—his wife. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I decided to keep it simple. “Yes. He’s an old friend of mine. We knew each other when we were kids.”
She motioned to the empty chair in front of me as she asked, “Do you mind if I sit down?”
