sky blue. It had caused an instant hard on in my jeans. Even thinking on it now, I’m gonna have to hit the bathroom just to let off steam.
I avoided her for the rest of the day, working on the panels of the Cobra, stripping it down, wrapping them up carefully and setting it all to the side for tomorrow, when James arrives. I knew that if Jack saw me dickin’ around, I was due for a massive rain of fists, and that old bastard still packs a punch, even if I can hold my own. It wasn’t until a few years back that I’d learned Jack’s history. Sure, I still knew nothing of my dad, or what really happened to make Jack hate him so much, but I had more on Jack than I did as a kid.
This guy had come by for a shipment one time, and called him ‘Cable’. The look on Jack’s face when he’d said it told me more than anything ever had — he was pissed to hear it. Like fucking pissed. So after Jack took off to get paperwork, I asked why he called Jack, ‘Cable’.
It turned out his fighting name had once been, Jack ‘The Cable’ Capello. The prick said it was because Jack’s arms were so trim, you could see the tendons; like cables running through them. He said he’d been one of the best underground fighters the mob had ever fronted in Brooklyn, back in the day. Jack was so good, he’d made all of them rich.
I’m sure Jack had placed his own side bets, and that’s how he had enough to start this place way back when. Over the years of course, he’s had a constant stream of ‘referrals’, allowing for the expansion of his little enterprise.
I’ve seen the records personally, and this place is more front than legit. It’s a double front really. We show the public the body shop up front, complete with a mechanic’s bay, then the illegal chop shop doubles as a launderer. There are more packages coming than going, and I’m sure there’s skimming somewhere, other than what me n’ Jack pull in. Whether it’s the couriers, the cars, or the cash that changes hands, there’s a lot of dough going through here on a daily basis.
The small town helps to hide it all from prying eyes. We’re so far out of the reach of New York, and any big city police operations, we are hidden right here in plain sight. There are days I wish I didn’t know all I do, but to be honest, I’ve hidden my fair share of the profits over the years. Jack’s taught me more than how to strip a car and fix an engine. He’s taught me to survive on the backs of the profitable dirty men.
I’ve got no intentions of taking over the business he’s in. I’ve been here long enough to know I’m not cut out for it. I don’t expect to be here much longer, either. Most of my childhood and early adult life has been spent in criminal activity, and from it I learned a great deal about what I want for myself. This crap is definitely not it.
Kate
H azel was spot on. Tips came to a grand total of twenty-two-seventy-five. That was five hours and sixteen tables of college kids, with not one person over the age of thirty appearing. I gotta admit though, working for Hazel and Gus was awesome. It was probably the first time in a long time that I’ve had fun. She has a way with the students, and those that fish for cougars are far and few between. Most are respectful and nice to her, and each other. The girls ask for the simple ‘get me drunk’ drinks, the boys ask for cheap beer, and not one of them leave even a stray fry on the plate when they’re done.
I was disappointed that I hadn’t seen nor heard from Ryker throughout the rest of the day. I’m sure that Jack guy had him back on whatever a ‘Bird and Cobra’ were, for the James dude that’s coming to get parts, leaving Ryker zero time to look at Creature, or even think to see me.
Like he wants to see me anyway. I’m sure there will be nothing more than a professional assessment of my car after the reaction I received when I halted his afternoon interlude, and
I avoided her for the rest of the day, working on the panels of the Cobra, stripping it down, wrapping them up carefully and setting it all to the side for tomorrow, when James arrives. I knew that if Jack saw me dickin’ around, I was due for a massive rain of fists, and that old bastard still packs a punch, even if I can hold my own. It wasn’t until a few years back that I’d learned Jack’s history. Sure, I still knew nothing of my dad, or what really happened to make Jack hate him so much, but I had more on Jack than I did as a kid.
This guy had come by for a shipment one time, and called him ‘Cable’. The look on Jack’s face when he’d said it told me more than anything ever had — he was pissed to hear it. Like fucking pissed. So after Jack took off to get paperwork, I asked why he called Jack, ‘Cable’.
It turned out his fighting name had once been, Jack ‘The Cable’ Capello. The prick said it was because Jack’s arms were so trim, you could see the tendons; like cables running through them. He said he’d been one of the best underground fighters the mob had ever fronted in Brooklyn, back in the day. Jack was so good, he’d made all of them rich.
I’m sure Jack had placed his own side bets, and that’s how he had enough to start this place way back when. Over the years of course, he’s had a constant stream of ‘referrals’, allowing for the expansion of his little enterprise.
I’ve seen the records personally, and this place is more front than legit. It’s a double front really. We show the public the body shop up front, complete with a mechanic’s bay, then the illegal chop shop doubles as a launderer. There are more packages coming than going, and I’m sure there’s skimming somewhere, other than what me n’ Jack pull in. Whether it’s the couriers, the cars, or the cash that changes hands, there’s a lot of dough going through here on a daily basis.
The small town helps to hide it all from prying eyes. We’re so far out of the reach of New York, and any big city police operations, we are hidden right here in plain sight. There are days I wish I didn’t know all I do, but to be honest, I’ve hidden my fair share of the profits over the years. Jack’s taught me more than how to strip a car and fix an engine. He’s taught me to survive on the backs of the profitable dirty men.
I’ve got no intentions of taking over the business he’s in. I’ve been here long enough to know I’m not cut out for it. I don’t expect to be here much longer, either. Most of my childhood and early adult life has been spent in criminal activity, and from it I learned a great deal about what I want for myself. This crap is definitely not it.
Kate
H azel was spot on. Tips came to a grand total of twenty-two-seventy-five. That was five hours and sixteen tables of college kids, with not one person over the age of thirty appearing. I gotta admit though, working for Hazel and Gus was awesome. It was probably the first time in a long time that I’ve had fun. She has a way with the students, and those that fish for cougars are far and few between. Most are respectful and nice to her, and each other. The girls ask for the simple ‘get me drunk’ drinks, the boys ask for cheap beer, and not one of them leave even a stray fry on the plate when they’re done.
I was disappointed that I hadn’t seen nor heard from Ryker throughout the rest of the day. I’m sure that Jack guy had him back on whatever a ‘Bird and Cobra’ were, for the James dude that’s coming to get parts, leaving Ryker zero time to look at Creature, or even think to see me.
Like he wants to see me anyway. I’m sure there will be nothing more than a professional assessment of my car after the reaction I received when I halted his afternoon interlude, and
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