Chapter Nineteen

Landon

I slam the baseball bat down on his desk, shattering a glass of water and making Max scream in the process.

“I don't know what the fuck you're talkin' about,” he shrieks.

“Sure you do, asshole,” I shout back. “You tipped them off.”

“I didn't,” he screamed. “I didn't do it.”

The coke-fueled rage is flowing through me and I feel powerful. I hold the bat up, giving Max a good, long look at the thing I'm going to use to cave in his skull. His eyes widen and there is genuine terror painted on his fat face.

It took me a little while to track down his office and studio. And I wasn't surprised to find it in an old, run-down warehouse in a shitty part of town. When I walked into the studio, there was some half-assed porn being shot. A couple of well past their prime actresses I recognized were taking turns blowing and fucking some young guy who just looked happy to be there.

Max sat his fat ass in his director's chair, looking like he was directing some goddamn cinematic masterpiece instead of some cheap porn. I waited until the scene wrapped up and then followed him to his office. When I'd first walked in, he'd smiled and said it was good to see me – until I hit him in the arm with the bat.

I'd only clocked him with a half-swing. I didn't want to actually kill him until he admitted what he did.

“Yeah? Then how did Rossi's bodyguards know I was on 'em?”

“Maybe you're shitty at surveillance,” he says – as if that's going to help his cause.

I clock him in the arm with another half-swing, drawing a pained cry from him. He clutches his arm and screams like a goddamn bone is sticking out of it.

“Stop being such a goddamn pussy and admit what you did,” I say.

“I didn't do anything though.”

The rage rushes through me like a flash flood and I have to physically restrain myself from bashing his face in.

“Here's what's going to happen,” I say, my pulse racing and my breathing ragged. “You're gonna call Rossi. You're gonna give him fifty grand and you're gonna get Harper back to me.”

“Ain't gonna happen, man,” he says.

An animalist growl escapes my throat and I slam the bat down on his desk again, the thunderous boom echoing around his small, cramped office.

“If it doesn't,” I say, my voice low and menacing, “then I'm going to take a home run cut and knock your damn head clean off your neck.”

“Look, even if I had the fifty grand cash to give you – and I don't,” he says, “there ain't no way Rossi is going to give that girl up. Especially not to either of us. Not knowing what he knows after you told him everything.”

“Like I had a fuckin' choice,” I say. “And he will give her back to me when I pay him his money.”

Max shakes his head. “You're delusional, kid,” he says. “Did you see the way he looked at your precious little Harper? Rossi is going to keep her for himself.”

“Bullshit,” I seethe. “And Harper will never stay with him. Bitch is in love with me.”

“She's young, kid,” he says. “Love is fleeting to the young.”

“She ain't like others.”

“Yeah, that's what everybody thinks,” he says. “But I'm telling you, even if you come up with the fifty grand, Rossi is not going to hand her over to you because he knows that you're going to turn her over to me.”

“Maybe I won't.”

“Yeah,” Max says. “Yeah, you will.”

“Fuck you, man,” I say. “You don't know shit about me.”

“Actually, I do,” he says. “Maybe in some weird way, you care about that girl – ”

“I do,” I snap. “Not that it's any of your fuckin' business.”

“But you care about yourself and money more,” he says. “And when it comes down to it, you're going to do what's in your own best interest. You're going to do what's best for Landon. Plain and simple.”

I want to bash his skull in, but on some level I know he's right. I do make the decisions that benefit me the most. That's how I've always rolled because I've never had anybody but myself to rely on. I'm the only one makin' myself get through it. I'm the only one runnin' my hustles. I can only count on me and that's the way it's always been.

And even though part of me wants to be with Harper, I know that Max is right and that dealing her to him will net me a big chunk of money. Enough that I can probably set up shop anywhere – maybe even over in Europe if I wanted to. Those pasty fuckers ain't ever seen somebody like me and the hustles I can run over there will have me living a life of luxury in no time flat.

I slowly lower the bat and let it hang to my side. Max still looks at me as he clutches his arm, a dark anger on his face.

“I should have my guys kill you where you fuckin' stand,” he seethes.

“You ain't got guys,” I say.

“If I did, I'd have them put a bullet in you for what you just did.”

“Fuck off,” I say.

Slowly, but surely, my breathing returns to normal and I'm able to calm myself down. Max looks at me, still seething.

“You done with your little temper tantrum?” he asks. “You think you can manage to be a fuckin' grown up now?”

“Fuck you,” I say.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” he says. “I hate your guts, but I think we can still help each other here.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because you're lookin' at this shit all wrong,” he says. “I shoulda thought of this sooner, but I had no fuckin' idea how incompetent you'd be at pullin' a trigger.”

“It was my first time, asshole,” I say, feeling the need to justify and defend myself. “Give me another gun and I'll make sure I do better this time.”

I stare at him, my meaning more than clear. Max just shakes his head and chuckles.

“What an asshole,” he says. “And given the fact they got your gun from you, an asshole and a total fuck up too.”

“I'm outta here,” I say and turn to leave before I do something I'm going to regret.

“Since you obviously can't get it done,” he says, “you need to get somebody else to do the heavy lifting for you.”

I stop and turn around. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that since you can't take him out yourself,” he says. “You need to find somebody who can.”

“What, like hire a hitman?”

“Actually, I was thinking somebody a little bit closer to home,” he says. “Maybe, much closer to home.”

I cock my head and think about it – and suddenly understand what he's saying. It's smart. And would get me everything I want – and in turn, give Max what he wants. I look at him and nod.

“That's actually, not a bad idea,” I say.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “That's why I mentioned it.”

I turn and leave his office, trying to put together the plan in my head. It's going to take some dexterity and skill – I'm going to have to run a hustle like I've never run one before. It's dangerous and could blow up in my face.

On the other hand, though, the reward would make the risk well worth the effort. I'm a gambler. I'm a hustler. This is what I do. I take chances and run risks. That's just who I am.

By the time I get back to the car, my mind is already made up – I'm going to do it. I'm gonna roll the dice and hope this all comes out sunshine and roses for me.