Wicked Company

Chapter Twenty-Six

~ Tucker's POV ~

"Oh, for fucks sake! It's been a fucking month of this bullshit. What happened? Would you idiots just talk to each other?" Willow tossed her wrench down with a clang, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically.

The last few weeks, I'd fallen back to silence in the shop. Death gripping the clipboard and glaring over at my employee from my office, I opened my mouth to tell her to shut hers when the door opened.

Barbie?

Hopeful, I leapt from my chair and let my eyes peek around the corner, but my gaze was met with a perfectly quaffed suit. And it was heading my way.

Of course. Here we go. I plopped back into my chair, trying to calm myself.

"It happened again, Ellis. And where the fuck were you?" Mr. Bancroft stomped over to me and into the small space, slamming the door with a huff behind him.

I kept my composure, refusing to let him get to me. "Pardon?"

"My business associate Carl Nelson had money go missing last night. Ten million, to be exact. Care to explain where you were?" The disgustingly wealthy man poked a wrinkled finger at me, hitting it into my chest.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed out of my chair and stood, towering over him. His face faltered, though he tried to hide his insecurity.

"I was here. Working on one of the million fucking cars you and your 'friends' leave in my lot expecting done the next day. Which, if you take a look in those bays out there, I have more to do! So do me a favor and touch me again. Give me a reason to get into a fucking fight today."

Flustered, his face turned red and mouth moved incoherently, flabbergasted that I was talking back instead of taking his shit again.

"Remember what's at stake here, boy! Today outta be enough of a reminder!" He threw his usual threat back at me, then turned on his heel and threw the door open, striding out of the shop without another word.

Willow's head popped out from under the BMW she was working on, her eyebrows raised to her hairline.

"What?" I growled over at her, sighing when she pursed her lips and slid back under the car.

Dramatic clopping of boots against the pavement outside signaled Barbie's arrival and I jogged over to the bay doors, clearing my throat and slowing to a walk when she stepped into the shop, not wanting her to know I was doing it for her.

Throwing the large doors open, I felt her glare in my back and decided not to test her attitude when in a bad mood, knowing how she was even with a good one. Willow slid out on her creeper, standing quickly, her eyes darting from Daniella to me, then back again. She popped her gum, the deafening sound echoing through the otherwise silent shop, and I took it as an escape.

Nodding to myself, I made a direct line for my car, getting out of the thick tension and heading for the one place I needed to go, though I had to make a quick pitstop along the way first.

I grabbed the pack of cookies from the passenger seat, the small jug of milk on the floor, and headed down the path I'd memorized. Sitting down in the grass, I opened the pack of cookies and pulled out my phone, scrolling for the number I wanted.

"Hey, you've reached Lauren Ellis. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you. Thanks, bye."

I ended the call quickly, not wanting to take up more space in her mailbox, knowing there wasn't much left. I'd just needed to hear her voice. My fingers skimmed on the headstone before me, the moss growing up the side and onto the front, threatening to cover her name. I made a mental note to talk to the groundskeeper when I left, grabbing an Oreo out and taking a swig of the milk quickly.