Page 19 of Furious (The Six Six Six Rule #2)

Noel The Knife

LEV

“ A re you sure this is where we’re supposed to meet Fox to pay for last night’s bets?” Chance asks, eyeing the barbershop at the end of Star Cove’s old marina.

I show him my phone. “Positive. Dave dropped me a pin right after practice.”

“I haven’t been here in a decade. This part of town has really become run down. It’s no wonder the city council wants to re-develop everything.”

I’ve heard those plans ever since I can remember. Once upon a time, this area would have been bustling with people and workers.

The old Country Club was turned into a dusty lifeboat museum that’s under funded and didn’t see many visitors.

All the shops that in the past used to serve the boat owners who moored their vessels here have been closing one by one.

The only relics of what the marina used to be are Seafarers, an old bar, and Gavin’s barber shop.

“Did you know that there was a barber shop here?”

“I did. I got my very first haircut here.” I answer.

“Not that I can remember that, but I used to come here once a month with my dad. That was one of the very few things he made time for. I used to love coming here because I’d have my dad’s attention to myself for an entire afternoon.

There used to be an ice cream shop right over there and after we got a haircut, Dad and I used to sneak an ice cream before dinner. It was our little secret.”

Chance knows how little time my parents have always devoted to our family. Their careers are their focus and the rest is just treated as accessories; something to add to their status in town. That includes me.

“Did you stop coming when you were old enough to go get your own haircut by yourself?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, not really. Gavin retired around when we were in middle school. He left his shop to his son, Noel.”

“Does Noel suck at cutting hair?”

It’s impossible to resist the urge to mess with Chance. “You should find out and get a haircut today.”

“Is that a dare?” his eyes widen and I almost tell him that it is.

“Nah man,” I snort. “It’s noon, so I could let you risk it, but I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Chance looks confused, so I explain.

“Once Noel took over the shop from his father, things were ok for a few months. But then it started to become apparent that Noel loved going to the Seafarers for lunch and he would indulge in a drink or two. Or five. If you go to get a haircut, or worse, a shave, after he’s had a few, it’s at your own risk.

His hand becomes unsteady and there’s no way to tell where he’s gonna cut you.

It became well known in town that if you want a haircut or a shave here, your best bet is to sit your ass in Noel’s chair before the bar next door opens.

People started avoiding the shop altogether, and Noel got a nickname. Noel the knife.”

He snickers. “I’ve never been here. Dad always took us to that chain shop downtown, that his buddy opened when he retired from the NHL.

I heard the nickname a few times, but I didn’t know that was why people called him that.

I thought it was because he got into more than one drunken brawl and he might have been armed with a knife? ”

“The drunken brawls are why no other place in town will serve him. He’s been banned from anywhere except the Seafarers. But the nickname is because more than one client has been a victim of Noel’s unsteady hand in the afternoon.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t lose his license.” Chance muses.

We’re still sitting in my car, but I lower my voice, anyway.

“Yeah, he came close when a few of his disgruntled customers started complaining. But somehow nothing ever happened and his shop is still here. The rumor is that when a few years ago the former mayor started talking about reviving the old marina, most of the businesses in the area were bought by someone who wanted to profit from the project. Noel’s shop was sold too, but the new owner let him stay open until it’s time to break ground for whatever is going to be put here. ”

Chance doesn’t make the connection. “What does that have to do with this guy staying open and cutting people when he’s drunk?”

“Every building in the old marina has been bought by the Morelli family.”

That’s all the clarification he needs.

“The mob? Seriously?”

We look at each other, and I know Chance is thinking the same thing I am.

“Do you think the Morellis are Cal’s sponsors?”

“It’s impossible to tell for sure.” I say.

“Those people are really good at covering their tracks. The only way to know would be to find out who owns that hangar right outside campus. It might not be directly a Morelli, but one of the ways that family operates is by keeping a legit front. They hide their illegal activities behind perfectly lawful businesses and have an array of people who will get their hands dirty on their behalf.”

The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that this must be how Cal managed to get all those bikes and the equipment he needs to race in town and keep everything secret.

My hunch becomes stronger once Chance, and I set foot in the barber shop.

The place hasn’t changed much since the last time I was here with my dad. The same chairs upholstered with red vinyl are lined in front of mirrors that take up an entire wall. Hair washing sinks are lined up along the opposite wall and there’s a counter with the cash register right at the entrance.

Everything looks a little worse for wear, as if it was in desperate need of an update.

“Can I help you?” Noel himself greets us.

I remember him as a young man, learning the ropes of the trade from his father. Now Noel must be somewhere in his 30s, but he looks much older than that.

The barber isn’t exactly fat, but his face has that strange puffiness that is often associated with a drinking problem.

I use the words in Cal’s message. “We have something to settle from yesterday.”

Noel nods, his eyes darting left and right as if he was checking that no one is paying attention.

There is one customer reclined in one of the chairs who’s being shaved with a straight razor by a guy who must be one of Noel’s employees. I can’t help but think thank fuck Noel didn’t decide to do that himself.

It might be barely noon, but his hands are shaking when he invites me and Chance to take a sit in the two empty chairs.

“What are we doing today?” he asks, covering me with one of those capes that are supposed to protect your clothes from hair. His breath smells of liquor and I begin doubting all my life choices.

We should have told Cal that we would give the cash to Dave at practice or something.

Chance must be having my same thought. “No, we don’t need a haircut. We’re here to settle something from yesterday?” he says the words very slowly, enunciating each syllable.

“Right.” Noel covers Chance with an identical black cape. “I guess you’ll discuss it with my associate. Cal!” he calls.

Calvin Fox comes out from a small door with a sign that says “Employees Only.”

Zara’s ex-boyfriend is dressed in a similar all-black outfit as Noel; a black apron with the logo of Gavin’s barbershop printed on the front is tied around his neck and waist.

“There you are.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes as he stands behind me, his hands landing on my shoulders. “What are you getting done today?”

I open my mouth to ask him what he means, but Chance reacts before I can.

“What kind of stupid game are you playing, Fox? We didn’t come here to let you or Noel slice us like fresh sushi. We have something for you?—”

A warning flashes in Cal’s eyes. “Oh, come on,” he cackles, looking at the guy whose face is being wrapped in a warm, white towel.

“I’ve been learning from the best. I could give you a haircut or some frosted tips.

Let me show you a book with some examples of haircuts we offer, so we can decide together. ”

Chance and I look at each other a little confused, but when Cal comes back with a thick black binder with dozens of photos of hairstyles, the mystery is solved.

“Put the cash between the pages.” Cal whispers, positioning himself between my chair and the one occupied by the other customer.

I do as I’m told, stuffing the envelope with the money we owe in the middle of the binder.

“I suggest something really short, unless you want to try a new color?” he projects his voice, no doubt for the benefit of the other customer, who is now at the register and is handing some cash to Noel.

“Right.” Cal says once the man has left the shop. “Now wait a couple of minutes so that guy doesn’t see you come out and get out of my fucking face. Next time you better have the cash on you at the race, I’d rather not risk blowing my cover here.”

That confirms the rumor that this shop is just a front for all sorts of illegal activity. Especially since Noel has conveniently disappeared behind the “Employees Only” door.

“You seem to think that we’re gonna lose again.” Chance argues. “Last night was just a fluke. We hadn’t been riding in a while, but we both know you’re no match for us.”

Cal barks out a laugh. “I’d like to see that, Hunter. You came up in front of a curve and choked like your brother did in Bridgeport. Only this time, you couldn’t try to blame it on me.”

Chance rises from his chair so fast that it would capsize if it wasn’t made of heavy metal and bolted to the floor.

“Atlas didn’t choke, asshole. Someone hit him.

With one of your fucking bikes. We were never able to prove that you were behind it, but say another word about my late brother and so help me fucking God. ”

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.

” Cal snickers. “I told that to the police two years ago and to your father. I had nothing to do with what happened in Bridgeport. But your brother wasn’t the champion everyone said he was, or he would have dodged that bike.

In reality, even if we had been allowed to continue racing, it was you who should have been on that bike.

You had won the pole position the day before, so it didn’t belong to your brother.

I guess you were too scared to race, like you were last night? ”

I’m on Chance before he can punch Fox.

“Knock it off.” I say, holding him back.

“And you take your money and fuck off. You don’t have one tenth of Atlas’s talent.

And last night you only won because you changed the racetrack and caught us by surprise.

We’ll see how long you want to continue to race once you lose every fucking week. Let’s go, Chance. We’re done here.”

I rip the cape off from around my neck and toss it on the chair. Chance does the same.

“Next week,” Cal says to our backs as we head to the door. “We race on Saturday night, when you come back from your away game. Same place, same time.”

We walk to my car in complete silence, but I know that Chance is still seething. I can tell from the tension in his shoulders and from his rigid posture as he walks by my side on the cracked pavement of the run down street.

“Dude,” I clasp his shoulder when we get to my car. “Don’t let that asshole rattle your cage. You could beat him blindfolded.”

I’m surprised when I see unshed tears in Chance’s eyes.

“Except the asshole was right. I did choke last night. When he was riding so close behind me and the road was narrowing right at that curve, I knew he was gonna try to pass me. Whichever side he picked, he would have probably thrown you, or the guy, on the Ducati off the road. For a second, I—I was back there in Bridgeport. I saw Atlas being hit again and I?—”

I squeeze his shoulder to show him my support.

“So you lost control of your own bike, trying to protect me and the Ducati? Chance, when we race, we know what kinds of risks we’re taking.

Next time, look after yourself and race like you mean it.

Hesitating like that could have cost you way more than last night’s race.

You could have ended up getting hurt, or worse. ”

I’ve only seen my best friend cry twice in his life. At his mother’s funeral and in Bridgeport when it was clear that Atlas wasn’t going to make it. So his tears come as a complete shock to me.

“But don’t you see, Lev? Cal was right. I had qualified for the race when Atlas couldn’t be back in time from Florida because his flight got canceled.

Atlas even offered to let me see the race through, but I didn’t take it because racing had only ever been a hobby for me.

It wasn’t my calling like hockey is. But if I had said yes, Atlas would still be here.

That day in Bridgeport, it should have been me on that bike.

How can I look my dad and Ares in the eyes when we all know that I’m here instead of him? ”

Fuck. I’ve always known that Atlas’s death had left a gaping hole in the Hunter family. But I never thought Chance carried all this guilt in addition to the grief.

I don’t even know what to say. His feelings are irrational, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t real to him. All I can do is to be there for him. I’m an only child, but Chance is the closest thing I have to a sibling. He’s my brother in every way but blood.

I pull him into my arms, squeezing as tight as I can.

“I don’t know anything about fate, Chance.

All I know is that you’re here. And I loved Atlas, but you’re my brother and I’m glad it wasn’t you on that bike two years ago.

You can be mad at me if you want, but that’s how I feel.

You know what else I think? Guilt has never done anything good for anyone.

What you can do to make sure that you honor your brother is to make every day count.

And Cal might have not been the one who hit Atlas that day, but it was one of his team’s bikes. Let’s find a way to make him pay.”

He composes himself, nodding at my words. “Yeah. Fox might not be entirely guilty for what happened to Atlas, but one thing is certain. He isn’t innocent.”