Page 19 of Deadly North
As Gigi retreats, I take out my phone and snap some photos of the damaged tired, then send them to Fury and Magnus. A few seconds later, Fury calls in a rage. “What the fuck?”
“Someone slashed her tires during the night,” I say.
“Goddamnit!”
“Yeah. Look, I’m gonna call Rusty, see if he can get over here this morning with some new tires.” Rusty is a mechanic and friend of the MC. “He owes me about a dozen favors by now, so it shouldn’t be a problem to get this taken care of.”
Sure as shit, I call Rusty and he arrives about an hour later with a set of new tires for the bus. Together, we replace the slashed ones, while Gigi watches from her front steps.
“How much do I owe him?” she asks me as Rusty is packing up.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”
“Mack…” she begins, but I’m not having it.
“Subject closed,” I say firmly.
“You’re a pain in the ass,” she mutters.
“You’re welcome. Now go get your shit and let’s go run your errands and get you back in time for your job.”
Later that day,Gigi’s got her bus parked out in front of a swanky-looking McMansion, and she’s set up in the backyard of the place, doing matching tattoos for the bridal shower under a party tent set up for the purpose. I’m staked out in a wooded area not too far away, invisible to everyone but close enough that I’m here in case anything bad happens. Gigi doesn’t need a rough-looking biker making all these women nervous with my presence. But I’m still close enough that I can watch Gigi interact with them. It’s weird to see her schmoozing with her clients so naturally, with her being so prickly in general. She’s even put on a dress for the occasion, a pale green sundress that bares her shoulders and gives her a soft, feminine look. She’s got a way with people, I have to admit. I guess it’s because she really loves her work. She’s really in her element doing stuff like this. It looks like she’s having a great time.
But then, about halfway through the shower, she pulls out her phone to check it after finishing one of the bridesmaids’ tattoos. She studies the screen, and in that moment I can almost see her physically deflate. I think she glances over at me, but I can’t be sure. She types something and then shoves the phone back into her pocket, all color draining from her face.
I want to jog over and ask her what’s up, but instead, I phone her.
“What’s up?” I ask when she answers.
Gigi glances over toward me. “I just got a text… from Blaze.”
“What? How’s that possible? How the fuck did he get your number?”
“I have no idea. I don’t like this, Mack.”
“What did the asshole say?”
Instead of answering me, she hangs up and then sends me a screen shot of their conversation:
This is Blaze. U ready to go on that date with me yet?
Fuck off. Lose this number.
Ur gonna be sorry u said that u fuckin bitch
Jesus Christ. That piece of shit is probably too dumb to find Gigi’s number on his own, but their MC has gotta have a tech guy like we do. This guy ain’t letting it go. What the fuck is up with his obsession with her?
I call Gigi back, but she doesn’t get a chance to answer, because the next woman in the bridal party has come up for her tattoo. The convo will have to wait.
Gigi keeps working the shower, but her demeanor has completely changed. She barely talks to any of the women, just keeps her head down and focuses on doing their matching ink. It’s like night and day, like she’s been replaced by an identical twin with an entirely different personality.
When she’s finished up the last tattoo, I come around to the front to help her pack up her bus. She’s still not talking, and I don’t press her to. I brought my truck here, so I follow behind her bus as she drives away from the shower. But instead of going straight back to her house, she pulls off the road into a parking lot and stops.
I climb out of my truck and go up to the driver’s side, waiting until she’s rolled down her window. “How you doing?” I ask her.
“Not so great,” she admits. Her face is pinched and tense.
“You’re okay, G. Nothing’s gonna happen to you while I’m around.”