Sharks by Matt Rogers (best book series to read TXT) 📕

pretend it hadn’t been said, or just walk away and rid himself of the trouble. But he was a dutiful employee of this establishment and he damn well knew he wasn’t leaving paying customers without a response. King knew it, too. He stared into the old man’s eyes.

The guy said, ‘I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re—’

‘What’s your name?’ King said.

‘Teddy.’

‘Sit down, Teddy.’

‘Sir…’

King looked around. They were the only customers. It was a gorgeous evening, the sun practically drenching the island in gold, making the surf shimmer in the dusk, but the tourists were elsewhere. There were a few strolling the beach, sure. The bulk of the foreigners would be dining at the fancier establishments, the restaurants put together a little more professionally. This tiki hut was somewhere to stop for a drink in the early afternoon or even the late morning, its meals more of a lunchtime specialty. Dishes to graze on instead of feast on.

King turned back and said, ‘You’ve got nothing else to do, Teddy. Sit with us.’

Teddy was paling by the second. He wanted no part of a conversation about Vince, which only solidified King’s quest.

The old man jerked a thumb in the direction of the bar and said, ‘I’ve got—’

Slater sat forward. ‘I’m going to stop you right there, Teddy. Unless you want us to make up some lies to Vince about how you were tarnishing his name in front of us, I suggest you sit down.’

Now Teddy got real paranoid.

Looked around in every direction, his mouth flapping like a fish.

Shit out of options.

His demeanour turned meek. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘A conversation,’ King said. ‘That’s all.’

‘I already told Vince that I—’

‘We don’t work for Vince.’

Teddy looked King up and down, then Slater. He said, ‘Yes you do.’

‘Has Vince ever used enforcers who look like us?’

Teddy took a moment to answer. ‘No. He usually uses locals.’

‘So we’re not with Vince,’ Slater said. ‘And it makes sense if you think about it. We were chasing him out of this place, not following his orders. Now sit.’

Teddy pulled a cheap wooden chair over and sat.

29

Wind battered Alexis’ face as she gave the moped’s accelerator a touch.

The evening sun beat down, stifling if not for the sea breeze. It melted into the sea as she raced northwest up Queens Highway. The coagulation of turquoise and gold was something off a postcard, a snapshot of paradise for all to bask in and savour.

She didn’t want to savour it.

She wanted something else.

Her phone vibrated incessantly in her pocket, and she ignored it for a couple of minutes, but eventually conceded and pulled over onto the next gravel shoulder. Planted her feet on the ground, balanced the moped underneath her, and ripped off her helmet with one hand as she fished her phone out with the other.

It wasn’t Slater.

It wasn’t King.

It was Violetta.

She answered. ‘Yes?’

‘Where are you?’

‘Are you my mother?’

‘Cool it,’ Violetta said. ‘We’re chasing mobsters, in case you’d forgotten. It’s a valid concern.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten. I just need to clear my head.’

‘You okay?’

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I just figured the three of you were on it. Or do you need me back there?’

A pause.

‘No,’ Violetta said. ‘But … you’ve been gone for hours now.’

Silence.

Violetta said, ‘Alexis?’

Alexis said, ‘I’m fine.’

‘If you need to talk…’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Where are you?’ The same question, still unanswered.

‘Still driving. Might watch the sunset at the beach.’

Violetta didn’t respond.

Alexis said, ‘Do I ever call you asking you where you’re headed? Or do I let you handle your own business?’

‘This doesn’t have to be an argument.’

‘It’s not an argument. I’ll be back later.’

‘Watch your back out there.’

‘Always.’

She clicked off. A whisper of guilt tickled the primal part of her brain. At least, that’s what it felt like. She didn’t know the science of it — all she knew was that Violetta was onto her. They understood each other, beneath niceties and politeness. Because she was changing as a person, morphing into something else, aligning herself with the people she spent every day with. Which wasn’t a bad thing, it was just … different.

And Violetta knew.

Knew that Alexis couldn’t think about anything other than violence.

She pulled back onto Queens and gunned it for West End. Unsurprisingly, the old town was positioned at the westernmost point of Grand Bahama. It wasn’t exactly frequented by tourists, at least not in comparison to the bustling sprawl of Freeport, which was exactly why she wanted to go there. Its beaches were overwhelmingly shark-infested, scaring off the majority of easygoing visitors, and a quick Google search had revealed an overall distrust of the area at night among Westerners. She was starting to understand that most people were weak and overly paranoid, so it could be a false platitude, but she figured she’d find out for herself.

She had to.

If she was forced to describe it, it was like realising there are cheat codes to the universe. She remembered the night she’d met Slater back in New York, when two coked-up stockbrokers who lived down the hall had forced entry into her apartment during a city-wide blackout. She’d tasered them into submission, but if she hadn’t had the weapon under her sofa she would have been screwed. Now, new doors were opening, realisations sinking in.

She didn’t have to cower away from threats anymore. Didn’t have to avoid empty streets at night, didn’t have to cross the street when she couldn’t ascertain whether a silhouette was following her or just walking home in the same direction.

It was an enormous shift.

So she had to experience it for herself. Couldn’t remain cooped up in that villa the whole time they were on the island. There was crime in West End, but that didn’t mean West End was the place to avoid.

Not for her.

Not anymore.

Maybe King and Slater would understand. Maybe they wouldn’t. They seemed to possess staggering insights into the human psyche, but had they ever felt that vulnerability that comes with being smaller, weaker, at the mercy of the whims of larger, powerful men?

Probably not.

She made it to