Super Godfather 2: My Ex Dumped the Wrong Man novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Trial One

Jonas walks into the Haverford warehouse alone and takes Suzette and the debt. Amos says trial two is sending her away.

I didn't go back for my coat.

I walked out of the dining room with every old man at that table watching me, and I kept walking.

My grandfather's driver caught me at the front steps.

"Mr. Wetherill, the car is ready."

"I'll take my own."

My own was the flatbed tow truck I had parked behind the garage, because I hadn't been able to give it up.

It still had my name on the door in peeling white letters.

I drove it down the hill with the phone on the seat beside me.

The photo of Suzette lit up every time I looked at it.

The Haverford warehouse stood on the river at the end of Delaware Avenue, three stories of grey brick with a loading yard.

There were two men at the gate.

They saw a tow truck and waved me toward the side lane.

I didn't take the side lane.

I put the truck in first gear and drove through the gate.

The bar snapped and hit my windshield, and both men dove out of the way.

I stopped in the middle of the yard and got out.

Behind me the gate was still swinging.

Twelve men came out of the loading doors with their hands in their jackets.

Suzette's car, a green Honda hatchback, was parked against the wall.

Preston Haverford was standing on the dock steps in his navy suit, and he looked almost bored.

"You made good time," he said. "I told them you'd come in a limo."

"Where is she?"

"Safe. Upstairs. Drinking my coffee, I think. She has a mouth on her."

"Good."

"The debt, Wetherill. Your grandfather says I owe you four hundred thousand dollars."

"Your father owes it," I said. "You signed for him in August."

He shrugged.

"I don't keep that kind of cash in the building."

"Then we have a problem."

Preston came down one step.

"Here is how I see it. Your grandfather is seventy-four.

"Your uncle got me a seat at that dinner table tonight.

"And you are a tow-truck driver in a nice suit."

A couple of his men smirked.

I looked at the yard.

Then I looked at the long black Maserati parked under the light by the dock, with a license plate that read HAVERFORD 1.

"Is that yours?"

His smile slipped.

"Why?"

I walked back to my truck.

I climbed up on the bed, hit the winch, and swung the boom around.

I had hooked a thousand cars in my life, and I had never done one so fast.

Nobody moved until the chain was on the Maserati's front axle.

"Hey," Preston said. "Hey!"

"It's a hundred and sixty thousand dollars of car," I said. "Right?"

"Wetherill."

"It's mine in about a minute."

I hit the lever, and the front of the Maserati rose off the pavement.

His men started toward me.

I held up my hand, and I kept it up.

"Boys, I'm twelve feet from the river," I said.

"Take one more step, and your boss's car goes into the Delaware."

They stopped.

Every one of them looked at Preston.

Preston stared at me.

Preston had spent his whole life giving orders and having them obeyed.

He was learning I would not take one.

"Bring me the woman," I said, "and the money. Then you can have your car back."

"There is no four hundred thousand in this building," Preston said.

"You have a safe in the office on the second floor."

"The cashier told me about it in September, when I towed his Buick," I said.

Preston went white.

"Four minutes," I said.

It took three.

Two of his men brought Suzette down the iron stairs, and she was holding her own shoes in her hand.

Her hair was tangled, and her green dress was torn at the shoulder.

She looked at me, then at the truck, then at the Maserati hanging from the hook.

"Nice," she said.

"Are you hurt?"

"A little embarrassed. They didn't even take my phone. Amateurs."

A man behind her carried a black gym bag, and he put it down at my feet.

I unzipped it.

Cash, in bundles, with the bank bands still on.

"Four hundred even," Preston said. "Put my car down."

I lowered it a foot and held it there.

"You took my girlfriend off the street in front of twelve witnesses," I said.

"It was a business arrangement."

"Say you're sorry."

His jaw worked.

Everyone in the yard waited for him.

"I am sorry," Preston Haverford said.

I put the Maserati down on its tires, very gently, and I unhooked the chain.

Suzette climbed into the cab of my truck without being asked.

I threw the bag in after her, and I drove out through the broken gate.

It was ten minutes before she spoke.

"Tell me you didn't do that for sixty-one dollars a hook."

I laughed, and I couldn't stop.

She put her hand on the back of my neck, and it was shaking.

We were halfway up the hill when my phone rang.

It was my grandfather.

"The first trial is passed," Amos said. "Come to my study."

"We're on our way."

"Not her. You."

I looked at Suzette.

"The second trial," Amos said, "is that you send the girl away."

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