The goons lunged. I clung to the Dumpster as the stocky one bent Reece’s arms behind his back. Oleksa grabbed the bag from Reece’s pocket and tossed it to Lonny.
“Just because you’re not wearing a wire doesn’t mean I trust you.” Lonny stepped up in Reece’s face. “See, the cops have been sniffing around ever since Sleeping Beauty fell in the pool. They’re asking a lot of questions. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
A chill crept through me. Crouched low, I stepped back and looked for a way out through the shadows where I could escape unseen. A twig snapped under my foot and I froze, but no one heard.
Lonny paced, tossing and catching his keys. “I’ve got friends in the system, Whelan. I heard about you. I know who you are. What you did.” The keys jangled. Up and down. “What I can’t figure out is how you walked.” Lonny stopped and ran a palm over his gelled spikes, back and forth. “Only two ways to walk from the shit on your record, kid. You either blow the right parole officer . . . or you narc.”
Reece’s cover was about to be blown.
Lonny turned to Reece. “So which is it?”
Reece’s expression was hard, but the cool steadiness was gone from his voice. “Just time out for good behavior, man.”
Lonny pointed two fingers at Reece’s chest. “Answer the question.”
“I’m not a narc.” Reece struggled to free his arms, his chest rising and falling faster.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Lonny launched a fist into Reece’s gut. I gripped the bat, squeezing my eyes shut as Reece dropped to his knees.
“It doesn’t change anything. I don’t trust you, and it wouldn’t matter even if you were a narc. Cops got nothing on me. I’ve learned a few things. My hands are clean . . .” Lonny wiped his knuckles and scrutinized his nails. “. . . Always clean. See, I have a business to run. I don’t like when things get messy.” A smile crept over his face. I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, watching Lonny inflict violence, or the promise of something worse in that smile. “I’ll need time to check your . . . credentials . . . before we try this again.”
Reece rolled onto his side, grunting and struggling for breath. Lonny motioned to Oleksa and I panicked when they hefted Reece to his knees. I wanted to run. Lock myself in my metal box and pretend this wasn’t happening. But I couldn’t make myself leave.
Oleksa’s fist smashed into Reece’s face. His head rocked back, blood flowing in a thick, dark stream. Lonny watched, tossing and catching his keys. I fisted the bat, hiding in the shadows like a coward, waiting for the police to come and save Reece—or arrest him. But they weren’t coming. He wasn’t wearing a wire. They had no way of knowing he was in trouble.
Oleksa hit him again.
I hope you’re worth it.
I grabbed the bat, creeping through the shadows in a wide arc and coming behind them near Lonny’s car. I pressed one hand on the hood and hauled myself up, planting my feet wide, steeling myself for the stupid, crazy thing I was about to do.
I raised the bat over my head.
“Let him go!” I shouted. “Or I’ll destroy your fucking car!” Loose hair whipped around my face. I looked into their eyes, one by one, then held Lonny’s stare. I wouldn’t let go.
Reece’s chin rested on his chest, bleeding into his shirt. Oleksa looked back and forth between me and Lonny, hands twitching at his side. Lonny shook his head with a bemused disbelief.
“My, my.” His voice was silky sweet and it terrified me as much as his smile. “Isn’t this something?”
He stepped toward me and every cell in my body screamed at me to run. Reece raised his head slowly, his eyes half closed and unfocused. His gaze sharpened on the hood of Lonny’s car. On me. His face paled, as if he were looking at a ghost. He opened his mouth to speak and struggled to one knee, but Oleksa kicked him in the gut, doubling him over.
“I said let him go!” I raised the bat higher, aimed at the windshield.
Lonny chuckled, but nobody moved. He was stalling. Calling my bluff. I tested the weight of the bat, letting it roll in my palms. Lonny raised an eyebrow.
“I heard about your run-in with DiMorello today. Heard Whelan came to your rescue. Is he your man now? Or are you just here to return the favor?”
I calculated my words carefully. Lonny was already suspicious of Reece. The wrong answer could get him killed.
“What I do with Reece is none of your business.”
“Maybe it should be, Boswell. Your boyfriend is looking for some pretty nasty little pills. Nasty little pills that make sweet girls like you do really nasty things.” Lonny shrugged. “But what do I care? Maybe you already do.”
His eyes skimmed over me, lingering on my breasts and hips in a way that made me feel sick inside. He ran his tongue over his teeth and toyed with the barbell above his chin, pushing and pulling it through the hole in his lip while he considered me.
“You keep your boyfriend on the right side of my street. I’m not sure I like him.” Lonny gestured to his goons. The stocky one tossed Reece’s limp body to the ground.
“You, however . . .” Lonny shook his finger at me. “. . . I am definitely beginning to like. Now get your skinny ass off my car. Next time you pull a stunt like this, I’ll break your pretty legs.”
I had no doubt he’d make good on the threat. Bat in hand, I jumped down the side of the car farther from him and backed away.
“You have your girlfriend to thank for this,” Lonny said, tossing a clear bag of pills between Reece’s knees. Reece swayed, slick with blood and sweat, red drops spattering against the plastic.
Lonny’s gaze was heavy on me as he angled into his car. “I won’t forget this, Boswell.”
The Lexus ghosted out of Sunny View. I tossed the bat and dropped to the ground beside Reece, afraid to touch him. He cradled his ribs, each breath harsh and shallow.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He spit blood in the dirt, then snatched up the bag and jammed it in his pocket. “He could have killed you!”
“What the hell was I thinking? What the hell were you thinking? Look at you!”
An angry gash split his lip and dripped off the end of his chin, and blood trickled from his left eyebrow. He was caked in dirt and blood, but he’d been lucky. Oleksa had been righthanded, sparing Reece’s piercings. “We need to get you to a hospital. Can you stand?”
“No! I can’t go to a hospital. They’ll call the cops.” His face contorted in pain as he tried to straighten himself. “I’m fine. Just help me up.”
Reece wrapped his left arm around his ribs. I grabbed his right, and together we eased him to his feet. Groaning, he maneuvered himself out of his jacket and peeled his T-shirt over his head. Angry black bruises were blooming over his ribs.
I watched, helpless, as he balled up the shirt, then pressed it to his head to staunch the bleeding. With labored breaths, he worked his arms back into his jacket and eased himself onto the bike.
“Come on.” The order rasped in his throat as he released the kickstand.