I was still sitting on the hood of my car when Peyton walked out of the warehouse two hours later. Two hours later, I was no closer to a plan. I had no idea where the gun was, and when I saw him walking towards me, I realized that I might not have longer than a few minutes left in the world. But when Peyton spotted me, he grinned.
“I thought this was too good to be true!” Peyton crowed. “We didn’t hear your car, and then I began to wonder if you were going to stick around and join us.”
“Never,” I said. “Where’s my fucking gun?”
Peyton held up his hands and grinned, shaking his head from side to side. “None of that sass now,” he said in a teasing voice. My heart began pounding in my chest, and I felt my palms sweating. “Do you wanna hear my little plan?”
I nodded, reaching down into my pocket and fingering for the knife. It wasn’t there, but my fingers scraped against the sides of my new phone. I’d bought a burner when I was out shopping for the gun, just in case I needed to get in touch with Lily. But this was going to be even better than that. I pressed the button on the side until I heard a soft ping indicating that it was recording.
“Sure,” I said, trying to make my voice friendly. “Let’s talk.”
“Not out here, fool,” Peyton snarled out. “Come back inside with us, and then we’ll have a little heart-to-heart.”
Shrugging, I stepped towards Peyton. Two of his thugs appeared out of nowhere and flanked my sides, pinning my arms uncomfortably against my body.
“They’re just doin’ their job,” Peyton said when I shot him a glare. “More than you can say for yourself right now, Zedy.”
I kept my mouth shut as Peyton’s thugs frog-marched me back inside the warehouse. Once inside the door, they let me go, and I looked around, feeling disarmed. My head was aching from when someone had clocked me earlier; every time I breathed in, I felt the dried blood crusted around my nostrils.
“What do you want?” I looked up at Peyton. His big dark eyes were all pupil; suddenly he looked eerily like another species of human altogether. I shivered when I realized I was seeing him like this for the first time. The Manticore, I thought. It really is him.
Peyton approached my chair and circled, making me feel nervous. He kept his eyes on me like a bird of prey watching its next meal.
“I’m gonna be scoring a huge supply of dope pretty soon,” Peyton began. He glanced around at his thugs, and they started laughing as if on command. “To overtake the boss of the gang, Net.”
“Why the fuck are you telling me?” I angled my body closer to Peyton so my cell phone would record everything he was saying. “I can’t help you. Not when I’m gonna be too busy killing you.”
Peyton laughed, a deep throaty sound. “You’re funny, man,” he said after a minute. “You think I need your help? I’m only telling you because dead men don’t talk!”
A chill of fear ran down my spine, and I reached for my knife. Against the wall on the other side of the room, I saw something propped up and covered with a paper grocery bag. When I realized it was my shotgun, my heart sank.
“So you’re gonna have this little secret all to yourself,” Peyton said. “We’re gonna let you go for a little bit so you can think about all the ways we’re gonna kill you later,” he added with a sinister laugh. “You think you can handle that, Zedy?”
“Fuck you. Not if I kill you first, asshole.”
“Zed is such a prize, don’t y’all think so?” Peyton glanced around at his thugs. One of them made eye contact with me and spat on the floor. “Now walk him back outside and give him the instructions.”
“Come here, you,” one of the guys said, walking over and grabbing me painfully above the elbow. With his other hand, he formed a fist and punched me square in the face. “That’s for making me drag your ass around,” he muttered. I blinked, seeing stars.
The men dragged me outside and left me propped up against my car. As they turned to leave, one of the thugs leaned down and whispered in my ear, “See you soon, punk.”
I shivered as I watched them walk away. When the warehouse door was safely bolted, I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
Bingo. It was still recording. With a satisfied nod, I clicked it off and emailed the audio to myself and Lily. Maybe there was still time after all. Despite the pain flashing through my head, I was starting to come up with another plan.
Even though Peyton was a brutal and evil genius, I had the sense he was starting to get cocky. He only told me his plan to show off—if it was even his plan anyway. For all I knew, he could have been lying. But I’d known Peyton for long enough to think that he was being straight with me.
For one thing, he’d always been too fucking cocky for his own good. For another, I knew how greedy he could get when he really wanted something. It was more likely than ever that he’d been telling the truth. And now I had to think of a way to outsmart him.
Working with Net wasn’t a viable option. I knew that, like Peyton, he wanted me dead for my crimes against the Iron Angels all those years ago. It didn’t matter that I’d served time; the only thing that mattered was that I’d fucked them so good in the first place. But Net wasn’t stupid. I didn’t know how Peyton was going to outsmart him. Peyton was good, but he was too cocksure to really be subtle.
It wasn’t news that The Manticore was back around. I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but I was sure that Net and his thugs had sniffed Peyton’s presence out from the first rumor of his return. Peyton’s sloppiness was the one workable angle I had in this situation. I wasn’t sure what I could do with the recording; Net would never let me stick around long enough to play it. But I felt there was some hidden advantage there that I wasn’t quite understanding.
Finally, as I climbed into the driver’s seat and jammed the key into the ignition, an idea came to me. I could potentially screw both Peyton and Net if there were a way to get the recording directly to Net. I realized I didn’t have much time; whatever I came up with, I’d have to act quickly.
I racked my brain of everyone I could think of who might have contact with Net. I couldn’t use Lily; that would be like throwing her right into the line of fire. But what about that bar downtown…
I drove with my foot glued to the floor until I pulled up in front of the bar. The old man saw me through the windows, fear written plainly on his face. When I slammed the door open, he cowered behind the bar.
“I can’t help you anymore,” he said in a quavering voice. “I’ve given you everything I could, don’t you see that?”
I shook my head. “I have a plan, but it involves you shutting your fuckin’ yap and listening to me, you got that?”
The old man opened his mouth to speak but then closed his lips and blinked at me slowly.
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to be so fuckin’ weird,” I told him. “For fuck’s sake. I need help with Net now. Peyton’s planning to fuck him over and the only way I can defeat Peyton is by screwing them both. You know anyone who sees him around?”
The old man closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “I might,” he said after a long pause. “I might know someone who could help you find him.” He opened his eyes and looked right at me. For the first time, something shrewder and colder than fear reflected in his eyes. “It’ll cost you,” he said gruffly. “You prepared to pay for what you want?”
I nodded. “I’ll give you whatever I can. I just need to fuckin’ find this guy.”
The old man held out his outstretched hand. Groaning, I grabbed my wallet out of my back pocket and handed him a wad of bills. “This is all I have right now,” I added as he grabbed the cash out of my pocket and counted through it carefully.
His face darkened. “I don’t know if this is enough,” he said stiffly. “I might need more.”
I slammed my fist on the bar and growled. “It has to be enough. I can’t get you any more until tomorrow. That’s too late. It has to be before midnight tonight.”
The old man glared at me and shrunk back into the shadows. “Fine. I’ll contact you when I know something definite. Now go home.”
Turning on my heel, I spat on the floor as I walked out of the bar. Warning bells were clanging in my head; I had no honest idea whether or not he’d be able to help me. All I had to do was wait for his command, then turn over the cell phone recording. But what if someone thought I faked it? What if it didn’t seem legitimate?
Messing with the Iron Angels would most likely end with me winding up dead, or back in prison. Still, any chance of knocking Peyton out was the only option I had. I couldn’t keep going on and letting him kill again.
Now, I had to go check on Lily. It might already be too late, but at least I could make sure that she was safe and sound.