Randy did not like being summoned. He liked arriving when he chose, not when someone else decided. Scott’s message was nothing but a place and a time, no greeting, no reason, just coordinates like an order. Randy went regardless. He had known Scott Baley’s name for years, the way you know the name of a man who keeps showing up in the same rooms, bidding on the same deals, smiling like he is not trying to take food off your plate. Randy had never liked him. Not because Scott was loud. Scott was quiet, yet he still got what he wanted. The parking garage was nearly empty, his footsteps carrying across the concrete. The air smelled stale, like a place cars passed through but people didn’t stay. His phone stayed in his pocket. No calls. No backup. If Scott wanted a show, Randy would not feed him one. Scott waited beside a dark car, sleeves pushed up, hair still damp, as if he had come straight from a shower and did not care who noticed. He did not straighten when Randy approached. He
Last Updated : 2026-03-03
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