Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Where are we going?”
Right on time, the words I’d been expecting came out of her mouth.
“Gonna drop this car off with a friend so that he can check it out. See if he wants to buy it,” I lied.
Silver frowned. “You wouldn’t want to fix it first to give him more incentive to buy it?”
“I’ll do that anyway,” I said. “But since it’s already on the back of the truck, I’ll let him check it out first.”
“Hmm,” she said as if she didn’t believe me.
I looked over at her to see that she was staring out the window, a small smile on her face.
Curious as to what put it there, I reluctantly asked, “What’s got you smilin’ like that?”
“Oh, nothing.” She shrugged.
“Silver…” I urged, feeling the need to push her because I knew this would be something I’d want to know.
“Well,” she said. “It’s just that I know y’all do bad things. It’s impossible not to know. I just feel like I’m left on the outside because I’m not a real part of this club. I’ve learned some things from Apollo. Though he’s really careful to make sure he doesn’t mention things that are considered ‘too’ bad. And if he does, he covers it up well with an excellent explanation. Then my sister will start talking about something with the club, then abruptly stop talking about it when Chevy clears his throat and reminds her to be quiet. And it’s just bits and pieces of things I’ve picked up here and there.” She turned fully toward me, and the blue of her eyes seemed to almost glow in the waning daylight as she speared me with a look straight to my soul. “Is there a dead body in that car?”
I had to fight the urge to squirm in my seat.
I was a forty-three-year-old man, and I felt like I’d just gotten in trouble with the teacher.
“No, Silver,” I lied smoothly as I turned back to the road that would lead me to The Boneyard. “I don’t know what gave you that idea.”
“Well, I’m not completely dumb,” she said. “I know that you had other options. You could’ve called a hundred other tow trucks that could’ve gotten you to where you wanted to be an hour faster than I did. Plus, let’s just use this moment to point out that you avoid me like the plague, and the only reason you called me is because you desperately wanted me to get one of your trucks here. And since I’m the only one here, because everyone else is on that poker run, you were left with no other option but to choose me.”
She was so astute that it was nerve-racking.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, but one day I’ll figure it all out, and y’all are going to have to trust me with your secrets,” she said.
I pulled up to The Boneyard and inputt the code that would get me inside.
The guard at the second checkpoint took my keycard and said, “Mr. Webb.”
I nodded instead of addressing him.
None of us knew any of the workers’ names that worked at The Boneyard—which was a good thing for them in case anything ever came back to bite them in the ass—and we never would.
I didn’t use them all that often.
You only got four disposals a year before you were kicked out of the club, so to speak.
After directing me to which area of The Boneyard he wanted me to go, I navigated in that direction and came to a stop in the middle of the car crushing area.
“Is he going to use this for parts or something?” Silver asked as she looked around at the stacks of crushed cars.
“Or something,” I muttered and got out.
Two
Do you have any fucks?
Go Fish.
—Text from Aella to Silver
SILVER
I was in heaven.
My thirst for knowledge was unending, and I’d never been to a junkyard-type place before.
I’d certainly never been to one with Webber.
Webber.
Holy hell, I was in an enclosed space with Webber.
Or I was.
He’d exited the vehicle rather fast, and I followed right along with him, my curiosity getting the best of me.
I wanted to know everything there was to know about the place, and then some.
I also wanted to mind meld myself into Webber’s brain and learn all of his secrets, wants, and desires, too.
Though that was purely for selfish reasons.
Webber was my endgame.
I only had to wait for him to realize I was meant for him, too.
Every hard, scary, and mean piece of him.
“Get back in the truck,” he said. “You don’t have the right shoes to be out here.”
I reached for the boots that were on the back of the truck wedged between a toolbox and the cab of the tow truck, and stepped into them one by one.
He looked at me incredulously and said, “You’ll walk right out of those. They’re size fifteens.”