King
Although Christy did a good job fussing over me, to the point where she was checking my bandages every thirty seconds, the only thing I wanted to do was leave, so I could sort my head out. A small part of me was loving all the attention she was giving me, only because I knew she wouldn’t do it often, and I wanted to appreciate it.
“Christy, I’m fine. You don’t have to check on me every damn minute.”
A part of me thought it was to take her mind off the fueling hatred she seemed to have developed for Rossi. Of course, I would be angry, too, if somebody stole the money that I was planning to build a life with.
“I was just trying to help,” she huffed, packing up the first aid kit and slamming it shut, so I could sense her displeasure.
“Don’t be like that. Thank you for your help.”
“You're very welcome. Are you sure they were masked? No identifiable features or anything?”
I paused thinking back to the fight. There was something identifiable all right, but the fact that I recognized the fighting style of a potential robber seemed a strange thing to say. In all honesty, I had a very good idea of who had broken into the place, but I needed to try and find them before I told anyone about it.
Growing up as I had, I was always told that it was no wonder that my childhood friends and I had turned into what we had. We were good at what we did; breaking into high security places, like it was a walk in the park. I didn’t care that we’d become criminals—the crew were my best friends, the kids I’d grown up with and spent my entire life with. That all changed when they framed me for something I didn’t do. Now the cops were after me, and all I wanted to do was just lay low. That’s why I took the shitty, low-paying job at Diamond Castle. Rossi was the only one who would hire me.
I’d tried to move on from what my friends had done to me, but it was so hard, and even the thought of them made my blood boil. But I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew I just had to keep my head down and move past it. It was even more difficult when they turned up at the place I worked and knocked me out. I wasn’t entirely certain, but I had a strong feeling that the guy that sucker-punched me in the face was my old pal, Sammy.
“King?” Christy said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“No, nothing,” I said quickly. “Hey, I’m going to head off. I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”
Without waiting for a reply, I walked off, trying to keep from hobbling so I could retain some form of dignity.
I collapsed into the car and drove home without too much difficulty, the entire time my mind focused on my past and what the hell my old crew was doing coming back into my life.
I woke up the next morning, sore and with a pounding headache. At first, I thought the ringing I heard was just in my ears, until I realized that someone had been trying to call me for the past few minutes.
“Hello?” I said groggily.
“King? Uh– Hey.”
Is that who I think it is?
“Dane?” I said, my complete shock evident in my tone.
‘Yeah. It’s me.”
Well, that confirmed it. If I wasn’t entirely sure that my old crew had been the ones to attack me last night, this confirmed it. Don was my best friend growing up, and the fact that he was calling me now, after radio silence for so long, could only mean that he felt guilty for something.
“You son of a bitch! You left me knocked out in an empty club. Who knows how long I would’ve stayed there before someone turned up!”
“King, I’m sorry,” Don said quietly, with regret in his voice. “You know I don’t always agree with crew decisions.”
“What decisions would those be,” I said sarcastically. “Framing one of your own and setting him up for the cops to find?”
“Yes, that. But I really didn’t expect us to do this to you again, and I never would have agreed otherwise.”
“But you did! Jesus, Don, we grew up together. I spent half my life at your house.”
“It wasn’t … It wasn’t our idea.”
Wait, what? Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
“Are you– Did someone hire you to stage the crime?”
“You know I would never willingly betray you, King. You know it.”
Fuck. This was worse than I thought. I wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t come back to the club and interrupted them. I would’ve surely been framed for another crime that I didn’t do, and this time, there was no way I could escape going to prison.
Who could’ve set me up, though? I felt like Christy last night, when she immediately jumped to the conclusion of Rossi, but there was really no other option, if what Don was saying was true.
If Rossi really did want to get rid of me, the only reason that I could think of was because I’d seen him getting beaten up by Christy’s regular in the back alley. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know what had happened to him.
“Who was it, Don? It was Jarren Rossi, wasn’t it? It had to be him!”
“King, you know I can’t say anything. You know how this works. I could get in serious shit, just for calling you.”
He was getting nervous now, backtracking from what he’d said earlier, and I knew he was worried about saying too much. I couldn’t even blame him, but I had to press for more.
“You’ve always had my back, Don. Always. Please help me out.” I was pleading him for his help now, but I didn’t care. I had to know who was setting me up, and why. I couldn’t let this happen to me again. I refused to.
There was silence on the other end of the line, until a barely heard, “I’m sorry,” and then the line went dead.
“Fuck!”
I knew Don wouldn’t say anything to betray his crew. He was in way too deep to do something like that. I also knew that I should count myself lucky for even getting any kind of information from him. Pressing him so hard wasn’t a good idea, but I couldn’t help it.
Finding out if Rossi really was the one after me was so important. I had a sneaking suspicion that, because my old crew had failed their task, Rossi might turn to other people to get rid of me. Who would he ask next? The cops? The mob? There was no way to be sure, and that was the worst part.